A Very Unexpected Journey
by Doodlewolf
Summary: Rachel Harker never expected to wake up in middle earth - she hadn't expected to wake up at all! This is her story of how she managed to stumble her way into the company of Thorin Oakenshield, much to his annoyance. Some romance later!
1. The Rabbit Hole

So, I'm sure you've seen a few of these around! I figured I'd try my hand at throwing a character into the Hobbit Movieverse! Hope you like it, and let me know! Obviously, I don't own any of the characters or the general story plot, I'm just borrowing it from Mr. Tolkien! **  
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**A Very Unexpected Journey**

I suppose the best place to start is at the beginning, _I_ barely know what's going on and I've been here from the start, so I can't imagine how you'd manage without a bit of explanation. Firstly, my name is Rachel, Rachel Jayne Harker, nothing special. In fact, I'm about as normal, as _dull_ as it's possible to be. Well I was anyway.

Here, I'll just tell you from the start, how I remember it at least:

I was heading back to my dads house after a week at mums. Yes, they're divorced, have been for the past few years and they still expect my sister and I to drag ourselves backwards and forwards between the two of them. Well me anyway, my sister got married a year ago and moved into a place of her own.

My car is broken – well, not broken so much as empty of petrol – so I'm on foot, which isn't a problem because I'm bringing Malik along with me. Malik, for clarification, is my dog. He's a German Shepard, a big one at that, he comes up to my hip and has already entered into the bad ass stage of his life.

Mal comes everywhere with me, and has done ever since I got him. My parents actually got him for me when they split, hoping it would make the separation easier for me – I'd also like to take this moment to point out that I'm 23 years old, and not a complete idiot. I knew they weren't happy together, the divorce was a long time in coming and to be quite honest I was relieved when they finally went through with it – they're both a lot happier now and I got a dog out of it.

So anyway, I was heading home, Malik trotting along at my heals. I had my headphones in, mumbling along to whatever song my Ipod had shuffled onto, my backpack slung over one shoulder and my fathers baseball bat wedged through the straps. Oh, the bat? My dad is under the impression that if a zombie apocalypse ever happens, I'll probably be at mum's, the bat is a safety precaution.

Yeah. He's a nerd.

I heard Mal bark and turned my head slightly to look at him, only he wasn't there. Something you should probably know about Malik is that he is the worlds best behaved dog, honestly, sometimes I think he just knows what I'm saying and does what he's told. He never wanders off – he doesn't even chase cats!

I panicked and I remember spinning round to find him, my eyes as wide as dinner plates when I saw him in the middle of the road. He barked again, his head down. I didn't think about it, I just stepped off the pavement and onto the road. I live in a small town and while traffic isn't London heavy it's still not a good idea to go meandering up and down the roads without looking – lucky for me and Mal there wasn't anything coming round the corner.

In a matter of seconds I'm beside him and clamping my hand down on the back of his collar, he looked up with deep brown eyes and gave another bark before pawing at the ground. That's when I saw it. A small golden coin, but it was weird, certainly not a pound coin or any currency that I recognised.

With a frown I stooped down and picked it up, keeping a firm grip on my wayward dog. The coin was heavy and warm in my hand, as if it had been out in the sun all day, though it had been cloudy since the early morning. It was strange, I remember staring at it for a few seconds, like I couldn't tear my eyes away – and that was when it happened.

The car was definitely going over the speed limit as it bombed round the corner, and of course Mal and I were standing directly in it's path. I'll admit I didn't react as I should have done. I just stood there, looking dumb as it hurtled towards me, not even trying to move. At the last second my mind started to process what was happening and I dropped down, throwing my arms around Mal and closing my eyes tight. A horn blared, Mal yelped and I went flying.

It's all a bit hazy to be honest. I remembered the car, and I remembered falling, though it took a lot longer to hit the ground than it should have. When I woke up - and between you and me it was a surprise that I woke up at all – I was nursing the worst headache of my life. Even worse than when my cousin had convinced me that Jaeger bombs were a good idea. I groaned, pushed myself up into a sitting position, despite my bodies protests and massaged my eyes with the palms of my hands.

"Ow." I muttered, dropping my hands into my lap and blinking my eyes open. That was a shock, I can tell you. I sprang to my feet, tripping over my boots in the process with a shout of distress because I was not where I should have been.

I suppose I was expecting to wake up on the side of the road, or perhaps in a hospital bed but I certainly hadn't expected to wake up in a forest. Can you blame me?

As I'm looking round I see a black and tan lump lying a few meters away, and that can only be one thing, so I rushed over.

"Mal!" I said, half kneeling half falling to the ground beside the dog. I placed my hands on his side and shook him gently, relieved to see his chest rising and falling. "Mal, come on boy, wake up!"

It's at this moment that I realised just how big he was. As I said before he's always been a large dog, but as I looked at him, with my hand on his chest, I realised that he wasn't just big, he was _huge_! My hand looked more like a dolls against him.

I can recall the sinking feeling in my stomach as I turned my hands palm up and looked at them. My gaze travelled to my body, to my perfectly fitted Game of Thrones 'Nights watch' t-shirt, which now looked several sizes too big. My skinny jeans which were almost down around my ankles and the fake fur boots my sister had bought me last year practically hanging off my feet.

"What the fuck?" I ask to no one in particular, pushing to my feet and patting myself down, frantically. "No, no, no, no, no!"

I turned, staring wide eyed into the trees as if they could explain to me why I had _shrunk_! They didn't answer, thank God, I don't think I would have been able to take a talking tree with everything else that had happened. I shook my head and spotted something dark out of the corner of my eye. My bag!

I waddled over, cautious of tripping over my ridiculously sized clothes and snatched up my bag, checking it over quickly. Apparently I was the only think that had been miniaturized during ... whatever had happened!

Another thing you should probably know, is that there are some things I never leave home without, all of which can be found within my rucksack. The first, and most important to me, is my sketch book. The second is my Ipod. Other items include a book (One of Brandon Sandersons MistBorn trilogy in this case), my purse, a pair of aviators and a pair of glasses for driving (The glasses I need, the aviators just make me feel cool), along with a pocket knife and torch that my father had given me last year before we went camping.

Nothing that would actually help me, of course, but I felt a little better knowing that I had some of my belongings. And look, there's my bat! I picked up the bat, and that was a lot bigger than I remembered it being too.

I'm not overly sure that I want to tell you what happened next, mainly because it made me feel stupid, but I suppose I did say I'd let you know the full story.

I was mulling over my peculiar short problem when I heard a savage snarl behind me. My first thought was that a wolf or something equally as unfriendly had found me and was about to make a swift meal out of me. So I span around, bat in hand to confront my would be attacker – only there was nothing there – nothing except Malik.

And he was snarling at _me!_

"M-mal?" I stammered, shocked. He'd never bared his teeth at me like this before, and I'm ashamed to admit that I was actually a little scared of him. He was, after all, almost as big as me at this time. "Mal, what's wrong?"

He snapped his teeth, growling as he prowled towards me, his eyes dark. I took a step back, and of course tripped over my own damn boot, the motion startled him and Malik leapt at me. I hit the ground and he landed on top of me, knocking the wind out of me as he did so. He stood, snarling over me.

"Mal, come on," I whimpered, his saliva flecking my face. Something was digging into my back and it took me moment to realise it was the bat. It hurt. I didn't know where I was, why I was suddenly 4 foot instead of 5'4, and now my only companion was threatening to tear my throat open. I don't like admitting it, but I couldn't stop the tears that started to leak from my eyes. Though I think it was justified, considering. "M-M-Malik! Please!"

There is only so much sobbing you can do while cowering from your supposedly faithful friend, and let me tell you it's actually quite a lot. I lay there for what felt like an age, waiting for him to bite me or do something, little river still streaming down my face. I could barely see straight through the tears so it came as a shock to me when something warm and rough rasped across my face, licking a line through my tears.

"Mal?" I questioned. He gave me a pitiful whine, as if he had no idea what had come over him. He licked my face again, and I wrapped my unfamiliarly short arms around his neck and buried my face into his fur, still crying.

I'm not sure if it just took him a while to recognise me in my little body, or if he knew me from the sound of my voice, or my smell, or if he had just been frightened by our sudden change of location, but I can tell you I was more than glad to have him back.

"Oh Mal, don't scare me like that!" I hiccuped, pulling away from his now damp fur. He sat back and tilted his head to the side, the way dogs do sometimes. "As if things aren't weird enough as it is!"

I pushed to my feet, wiping my eyes on my stupidly long t-shirt sleeve and took a ragged breath. I don't usually cry, honestly, and I knew I shouldn't have told you about it. Whatever, it happened, you can't blame me under the circumstances.

"We've got to find out where we are," I said determinedly, sniffing. "and what the hell is happening."

I nodded to myself, bending down to roll up my trouser legs and tighten the straps on my boots and belt. I wasn't going to get anywhere if I fell over every other step! Next I picked up my bag, adjusting the shoulder straps on that too so it didn't keep slipping off my smaller frame, and lastly I took up the bat.

"Alright Mal, which way?" I asked, he snorted, which wasn't very helpful, but I hadn't been expecting much from him to be honest. I headed off to the left, following a deer track as it twisted through the trees, hoping I'd find something that resembled civilisation where I could puzzle out what was going on.

I've been on regular camping trips with my dad since I was a kid, so I'm not completely lost in a forest, thought I wouldn't have said no to a map. As it was, I eventually found my way out of the forest after a few hours, though purely through luck. When I emerged from the leafy fortress, Mal at my side, I was more than a little surprised with that I saw.

"No. Fucking. Way." I gasped out, my eyes wide. I knew where I was. I couldn't possibly be where I thought I was but I couldn't think of any other place it could be, which really narrowed down my options on location.

I looked out over a series of grassy hills, each one with a small, perfectly round door set into the side. Each door was painted a different colour – blue, red, yellow, orange – and each one boasted a picturesque little garden full of flowers and shrubbery. I had seen it a few times before, though only through a television screen.

"The Shire?" I questioned to myself. That couldn't be right. "...Shit."

**There you go, first chapter down! I hope you guys liked it and I'll try and make the next one a little longer - as I'm sure you've guessed we'll be meeting our Company in the next chapter so stay tuned! **


	2. Not a Hobbit

**Hello again! Thanks to anyone who read and double thanks to my one reviewer :D I really appreciate it! Hope you like this chapter! Please, pleasseeee review if you like it! **

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Chapter 2

Now I've read both the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy – though it was quite some time ago and I honestly don't remember all of it – not to mention owning the box sets. So yeah, you could say I've got some basic knowledge of Middle-Earth. I know enough that I could drop some pretty explosive spoilers onto the inhabitants of the Shire, not that they'd believe me of course.

And then a thought hits me. What if I've landed myself in a time completely random to the books? That's a scary notion. It's one thing to have no clue what's going in in your life when you're in your own world, it's something entirely different to be blundering around in an unfamiliar universe.

It did clear up one mystery, however.

"So," I said, planting my hands on my hips. "I'm a Hobbit!"

"No my dear lady," A amused voice contradicts from behind me. "I rather think you're not!"

I span round, a wide eyed look on my face and my mouth hanging open because I _knew_ that voice! Mal snorted beside me but I didn't pay him any attention, because sitting at the base of one of the trees to my right was a tall, bearded old man clad in grey. Gandalf!

He was puffing on a pipe, sending small smoke birds fluttering around his pointed hat and smiling at me. I blinked. Getting over my initial shock of coming face -to-face with Gandalf I slowly processed what he had said.

"What?" I asked dumbly, my eyebrows drawing down into a frown.

"Not a what, you are still a who, after all," He pointed out. "Just not the who you appear to think you are!"

"I-I... huh?" I questioned. I'm a stellar conversationalist, as you can tell.

"You are a dwarf, my dear!" He said with a broad smile. I can't remember what I did with my face when he said that, but I'm pretty sure I didn't smile back.

"A.. A dwarf?" I repeated, he nodded kindly. I'm not sure what Gandalf's first impression of me was, but I can guarantee it wasn't one of great intellect.

"Is everything all right?" He asked, peering at me from under the brim of his hat. "You seem quite turned around."

"That's one way to put it," I sighed, scratching the back of my head. "I'm turned around."

"Well perhaps I can help, I'm quite good at figuring things out, if I do say so myself," The wizard said, patting the grass beside himself. I didn't hesitate. What did I have to lose? "First, some introductions I think! My name is Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey."

"I kn-" You already know what I was going to say, don't you? I decided against it, for the moment. "I'm Rachel Harker, this is my dog, Malik."

Mal gave the wizard a curious sniff before dropping down beside me and resting his head on his paws. I stroked a hand down his back, still concerned with how tiny I felt beside him – and Gandalf.

"Interesting breed," Gandalf muttered, tilting his head to look at the dog in more detail. "I don't think I've ever seen one quite like him, nor have I ever seen a dwarf quite like you!"

"We- uh, we're not from around here." I said lamely.

"Indeed," Gandalf said with a chuckle. "Well as it happens, neither am I! I have a dinner appointment, in an hour or so, but until then I think I'd quite like to hear a little more about you, Miss Harker."

I feel like I should describe Gandalf a little more. It's strange, and I don't know what I was expecting but he really could have been Sir Ian McKellen's long lost twin! His beard, hair and even his eyebrows were a little longer and more wild looking, but his face looked the same and his voice.

"I don't really... I mean I'm not really sure how to explain it," I say, running a hand over my jaw as I try to think how to start without sounding like a fruit and nut bar. "I don't think you'd believe me."

"Ah, well there is only one way to find out!" The wizard said, his blue eyes twinkling. "And I think you will be pleasantly surprised by what I will believe."

Well I guess that was a pretty good point. Of all the people in Middle-Earth that could even start to comprehend my story, Gandalf was probably the one.

"Alright." I said, nodding. Then I told him.

I'll spare you a repeat of how I got here, your memory can't be that bad! I didn't tell him that where I came from his world was nothing more than a set of books (albeit a very popular set of books), and a collection of films (an admittedly impressive collection of films) because that's a little insulting, isn't it? Not to mention potentially hazardous.

"Well," Gandalf said, puffing on his pipe for a moment, a curious look on his face. "That is certainly very interesting. Now what did you say hit you? A car, was it?" I nod. "I see, and exactly what manner of beast is a car?"

I'm not entirely sure he was focusing on the most important part of the story. The fact that I was from a different world seemed to have been lost to him, pushed aside in favour of finding out what a car was!

"It's not an animal! It's sort of like a big metal wagon?" I ventured. I've never had to describe a car to anyone before, can you tell? "They're for transport, they go really fast."

"And one of these hit you?" He asked, I nodded again. "How dreadful!"

"I guess so, I mean, I don't really know what happened," I said, shrugging a shoulder and sighing. "One minute I was about to get hit, the next I'm waking up here."

"Extraordinary!" Gandalf said, emptying the contents of his pipe on the ground beside him before stashing it somewhere within his long grey cloak. He glanced up at the reddening sky. "Now my dear, as I said I have a dinner to attend shortly, would you care to join me?"

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't already been thinking about it. There was really only one dinner that Gandalf could be attending in the Shire – and that was at the home of Bilbo Baggins. Did I want to go? Yes. Should I actually go? Probably not.

"Sure!" I said, smiling.

This was mistake number 1, in a_ long_ list of dangerous and stupid mistakes that I would later live to regret. In my defence, what else was I going to do?

We did not go straight to Bag End, as I had been expecting. Instead, we went left, following a path that wound it's way down the hill and towards what appeared to be a market. It was starting to get late, so all of the little Hobbit folk who had been selling at the stalls were beginning to pack up.

This didn't seem to be a problem for Gandalf as he strode quickly through the closing stands till he found one that sold clothing.

I gave him a look, and he smiled down at me in a way you might to a rebellious child. I didn't really appreciate that.

"What are we going here Gandalf?" I asked, glancing at the peculiar assortment of waist coats and cotton shirts.

"You cannot go walking around in .. those," Gandalf said, motioning to my clothes with a wave of his hand. I frowned. Admittedly my sense of style leaves a lot to be desired, but it's not _that_ bad. "Hobbits are a not fond of strangeness, no doubt something you have noticed from the looks you have been receiving!"

"I'm not sure I'm the one that's been attracting those looks." I muttered, turning my attention back to the clothes as Gandalf attempted to persuade the young Hobbit woman who owned the stall to hold off for a moment on the packing up.

"Quickly now, Rachel my dear," Gandalf bustled back, gesturing towards the racks of clothing. "Miss Appleburn has agreed to wait until you've picked something out."

"I don't have any money," I said quietly, not liking the way _Miss Appleburn_ was looking at me or Malik. Gandalf chortled. "I'm being serious, I've got a tenner in my purse and a debit card but I don't think that's going to cut it here!"

He gave me a funny look. Obviously he wouldn't know what either of those things were, I sighed.

"Don't worry about that, I've a few coin's I can part with." Gandalf said, once again trying to direct my attention to the dresses and corsets. I put on my stubborn face.

It's not that I didn't appreciate the offer, because I did, I just don't really like borrowing things from people – especially money! It is for this very reason that I was walking home from my mothers instead of driving which prompted this whole mess to begin with. Make of that what you will.

"I shall expect it back, of course, I have little doubt that you will be able to reimburse me by your journey's end," Gandalf said briskly, his eyes flicking to the Hobbit woman who was looking more and more annoyed with every second. "But you really cannot be walking around in that, and we are running out of time."

"Alright." I huffed, defeated. He's a smart one, that Gandalf, even if he does look like a bit of a hobo.

With the grudging help of Miss Appleburn, I was quickly and silently sized up before having a bundle shoved into my arms. Gandalf pulled a small pouch from the infinite depths of his cloak and paid the little woman.

Malik was snuffling around at the pile of clothes in my arms, till I shooed him away and, being careful not to drop the lot, examined what I had been giving. The first item was a plain white shirt with various ruffled bits around the bottom and at the ends of the sleeves.

I'm not a big fan of pleated things, but as the saying goes, beggars can't be choosers. Neither can penniless accidental world travellers apparently.

Under the shirt was a simple leather bodice, which I tried _really_ hard not to scrunch my face up at. I have never, ever worn a bodice before, and it's not something I had planned on wearing in my future. Lots of plans going out the window today, huh?

Lastly a pair of camel coloured leggings which I suspect might have been made for someone of the male variety. Things could be worse.

"Thank you, Gandalf." I say, piling the clothes back up and holding them under one arm before turning to face him. He smiled and held out another lump of dark green which turns out to be a cloak! Fancy, right?

"Now, I do believe it is high time we let Miss Appleburn alone," Gandalf said, nodding his thanks to the woman who didn't look nearly as sour now that she had some coins in her hand. "I'm quiet hungry!"

I nodded. I could definitely eat.

Gandalf lead me and Malik off into the heart of the Shire, following little footpaths that wove between the hills and Hobbit homes. Malik stopped every few meters to sniff at something, poke his nose through a fence or lift his leg.

Eventually though we made our way up one of the largest hills in the Shire – much to my annoyance. I've never been fond of inclines of any kind – to a familiar looking green door. Gandalf gave me a smile as he opened the gate, but before the wizard stepped through, a voice called from a little way down the path.

"Gandalf!" They called again. I turned too, and spotted the group of dwarfs heading towards us, illuminated by the ridiculously large moon which was hanging low in the sky. I knew, from my selective knowledge of the future, that the figures approaching were Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bomber, Ori, Nori and finally Dori.

Try saying that in a hurry!

They gathered around the wizard, and by extension, myself. I'm not going to lie, I felt pretty awkward. I mean, these guys were all genuine dwarfs – beards, axes, hammers – the whole shebang! And there I was with my dorky T-shirt and baseball bat.

"Oi, whats goin' on here?" Nori asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Who's this?" Questioned Bofur, almost over the top of his pointy haired companion.

Oh dear, how did I get out of this one?

"This is Miss Rachel Harker," Gandalf stepped in, saving me from looking like an idiot again with my inability to explain anything. "And her four legged friend, Malik, I believe."

I nod, giving them my most winning smile. It seems to do the trick because they all begin introducing themselves and bowing all over the place. It was like a miniature Mexican wave.

"Well then lassie," Gloin said, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops. "What'are you doing with our wizard?"

"Good question!" I admitted. What was I supposed to say? How do I get myself into these situations?

"Rachel has a very .. unique circumstance," Gandalf said, hesitating only briefly. "Which will require her to accompany me, for the foreseeable future."

The dwarfs seemed to accept this without much discussion, which was good, because I wasn't really sure how Gandalf or myself was planning to explain my 'unique circumstance'.

I cleared my throat. "Shall we go in?"

"Excellent idea my Lady!" Dori agreed, giving me another little bow. Gandalf pushed through the gate, myself and Malik a step behind with the dwarfs bringing up the rear.

"Mal, here boy." I called him to my side, stepping out of the way as the dwarfs all swarmed towards the door, each one eager to be inside. Mal looked up at my with big brown eyes and a whine, I nodded. I think that summed us up quite well.

The dwarfs spent the next minute and a half jostling for position in between ringing and knocking on the the door. I stood well back, not wanting to participate in the impending dwarf-pile. Sure enough a moment later the door swung open and 8 dwarfs fell in. Gandalf chuckled merrily beside me, and, admittedly, it was quite funny.

"Gandalf." An exasperated voice muttered, and I looked up. My first official meeting with Bilbo Baggins. God but he was shorter than I was and I'd gotten pretty short! He could probably ride on Mal's back!

"Ah, Bilbo, lovely to see you again my dear hobbit." Gandalf said, stepping into the house as the dwarfs got to their feet. They all bowed and introduced themselves, much as they had done to me short minutes previously.

"Gandalf! What is going on?" Bilbo asked, frustration plain on his face.

"There will be time for that later, I assure you," The wizard said warmly, reaching a long arm out the door before tugging me inside. "This is Miss Rachel Harker, Rachel, this is Mr Bilbo Baggins."

"Nice to meet you." I said, though it occurred to me later that I should probably have bowed or something, like the others had.

"Uh, yes, how do you do?" Bilbo asked, giving me a flustered smile which looked a tad strained if you ask me.

"A damn sight better than you, I'd say," I grin. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"I- My bathroom?" He repeated, I nod again. Not only do I need to get changed, but I really could do with visiting the little ladies room, if you'll excuse the pun.

"Yes, please," I say, smiling again. Bilbo blinks, remembers his hosting manners and nods, directing me down the hall to the fifth door on the right. "Thanks!"

I start walking but don't make it more than 3 steps past the kitchen when a shout – more of a squeal, really- sounds behind me. Followed by many feet stomping as the dwarfs appear, heads popping out from various doors along the passage.

"I-I-It's a wolf!" The hobbit gasps, one hand pointed towards Malik, who flashes a nonplussed look in my direction.

"Looks more like a warg to me!" A large, bald headed dwarf says. This is Dwalin of course, and he suddenly has an axe in his hand.

I don't think so, Mr Dwalin, not my dog!

"Whoa! Whoa!" I shout, stomping up to him and pointing a threatening finger towards the larger dwarf. "He's not a warg you idiot!"

The look on Dwalin's face is hilarious, but you can't laugh whilst trying to look threatening, so I bite the inside of my cheek and glare at him. Obviously he's not used to people calling him an idiot, sadly I can't say the same for myself.

"Put that axe away! Now!" I snap as Mal pads up to me, tongue lolling, a doggish grin on his face. "That's my dog!"

I am painfully aware of the silence in Bag End, broken only by the quiet sound of Gandalf chuckling behind his hand. Everyone seems to be waiting for Dwalin to do something. Myself included. His gaze travels to the finger I'm still brandishing a foot from his face and I quickly drop my arm to my side.

"And who're you?" Dwalin asks in a dangerously low voice. As you might have guessed by now, I am suddenly not feeling quite so brave for jumping to Mal's rescue.

"Rachel Harker," I say, holding out my hand. Dwalin looks at it for a moment and I start to get the feeling that handshakes aren't so popular in Middle-earth. Once again I drop my hand to my side and stand there, feeling awkward. "And you are?"

More silence, till finally. "Dwalin, at your service."

The rest of the group starts laughing and soon they're all returning to whatever food items they'd been pilfering from poor Bilbo's stores. I take this moment to slip away to the bathroom, glancing back when I don't hear the familiar _clack-clack_ of Mal's claws. He is having his ears scratched by Dwalin, the traitor.

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**So, that's most of the company at Bilbo's, just one more fashionably late dwarf to look forward to in the next chapter. I hope it all makes sense -I got a little bit turned around myself half way through. While I'm not sure if the Shire would have markets, I needed a place for Rachel to get her clothes so you may have to forgive me that. Hope you enjoyed it! **


	3. Dwarven Royalty

**First of all, thanks to anyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it! Secondly, I should probably mention now that there is swearing and will be throughout the rest of the story, just fyi. Hope you like it and please review! **

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Chapter 3

Once in the safety of the bathroom I allowed myself a few moments to succumb to the feeling of being completely overwhelmed, which I had been fighting back since my graceful arrival on Middle-earth.

Panic doesn't creep up on you with much warning you know, it's more inclined to grab you from behind and try to throttle you when no one is looking.

"Oh God, oh God," I muttered, slapping a hand to my forehead and shaking my head. "What the hell am I doing here? What am I going to _do!_"

I'm not prone to anxiety attacks, I think I've had one before this point, and it's one of those things that I can't really remember too clearly. With my back pressed against the door I slid down to the floor, my breathing quick and short.

"Fuck," Eloquent as always. "_Fuck!"_

I remember I had struggled to regulate my breathing, taking great gulps of air but exhaling much to quickly. I honestly don't know how long I sat there, hands fisted in my hair, but eventually I was able to regain control.

In and out. In and out.

After a few more minutes of quiet rocking I finally push to my feet, hands shaking, lungs aching, and move to the sink. I turn on the tap with the intention of splashing water on my face - only I never get around to it because I catch sight of myself in the mirror.

It sobers me somewhat, but also terrifies me.

In the reflection my hands come up, fingertips prodding at a pale face coated in a thin sheen of sweat. And it's my face, only it's different. Just like how Gandalf is Sir Ian and the dwarves are like their actors, but not at the same time. Does that make sense?

My face has the same structure, and the same shape though my jaw line looks little more impressive, but there are some minor differences. I look older, somehow, tired. My eyes are no longer the same grey blue of my mother and sister, but deeper, the colour of slate, an approaching storm. My hair is also longer than I remember. I have always had dark, thick hair, but nothing like this. I pull it out of the pony tail it's been kept in, and instead of stopping around my shoulders it falls to my lower back. And it's _heavy._ Intriguing. My eyebrows look like they could do with a good pluck too!

I'm still me, still Rachel Harker, only I am Rachel Harker the Dwarf, not Rachel Harker the human. So what has happened to the human me? That is a good question, one I hope to have answered for you by the end of this story. So be patient with me, if you can.

With a shuddering sigh I gathered my hair back up and returned it to it's pony tail, then, hiccuping slightly, turned my attention to getting changed. I stripped down to my pants and bra, giving my substantially shorter, broader body a cursory glance before donning the clothes Gandalf had purchased for me.

It's a fairly good fit, but I feel like a bloody idiot.

"Ugh." I grumbled, turning to look at myself in the mirror. There's nothing I can do about feeling stupid, Gandalf is right, I can't walk around in my own clothes. With that in mind I upended my bag, spilling it's contents onto Bilbo's bathroom floor. Bundling up my t-shirt, I shoved it into the bottom of my now empty bag. As I fold my jeans, however, I notice a weight in the pocket and curse myself for forgetting about my phone!

I pulled it out, dropping my trousers to the floor as I slide the screen. My eyes go straight to the top left corner, there are no bars and I sag against the sink. What had I been expecting? I can't connect to something that isn't there.

And now I'm annoyed at myself for even entertaining the idea that I could have signal in a different bloody _world_! Now _that_ is stupid. With another sigh I finish packing away my clothes, keeping my boots out because the Hobbit trader had no need to sell shoes.

Now all I need to do is re-pack my bag. Clothes in the bottom, obviously, I won't be needing them for a while – this also included the black zip up hoodie that had been lurking in there. Then my book and sketchpad, because I very much doubted I would need them if I did happen to tag along on the quest. I chucked in my purse, my ipod, my useless phone and my sun glasses.

"I carry a lot of crap around with me!" I mutter, dropping in a tangled mess of straps, which is in fact Mal's rarely used lead and harness. There is also a silver lighter - which I pinched from my dad a few years ago, a pack of plasters - which will _probably_ not be enough to save me – and various other unhelpful items like deodorant and paracetamol. The hand torch and my prescription glasses are wedged into the front pouch of my bag for easy access, along with the pocket knife.

Annnnnd I'm done. I sling my bag over my shoulder and hook the bat through the straps before pulling the door open with more force than is probably necessary, it rebounds off the wall and I wince.

Mal is sitting outside the door, his ears twitching constantly with all the noise that's coming from the dining room. I trail a hand over his back as I step out and he clambers to his feet, following me back towards the doorway where I leave my backpack. Then I step into the dining room.

There is only one word to describe what I found, and that word is _chaos_!

Food is flying all over the place, one of the dwarfs is walking along the table, sending more food falling to the floor. Mal manages to hang back for almost 10 full seconds before he dives in to vacuum up all the debris. They're shouting, and laughing and just making _noise_. So much noise!

Gandalf spots me (standing wide eyed in the doorway!) and in a repeat of earlier, pats the bench beside himself, signalling me to sit. I groaned a little bit, on the inside at least. Would you want to get closer to this mess? Honestly?

A few moments later however, I was wedged in between Oin and Gandalf. Fili handed me a mug of ale with a wink, which was not only strange but inappropriate since I looked about 20 years older than him! Oin and Gandalf then proceeded to pile a plate full of food and place it in front of me. I was hungry enough that I ate it all in fairly impressive timing. Just in time, as it would happen, to sit back as the singing began.

You know which one I mean, I know you do!

The dwarfs began banging their cutlery on the table and stomping their feet – so much so that I spotted Mal dart out into the hallway, his scrounging bought to a halt by the thundering feet.

"And can you not do that? You'll blunt them!" Bilbo's agitated voice says from the doorway.

"Oh, you hear that lads?" Bofur asks the table, grinning. "He says we'll blunt the knives!"

"_Blunt the knives bend the forks!  
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!  
Chip the glasses and crack the plates!  
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates -_

Fili and Kili, I notice, are the instigators of the whole thing. The first one's to start throwing the crockery at least. You may be unsurprised to hear that a _lot_ of things are started by these two. They might look cute, but they're little monsters, really.

_Cut the cloth, trail the fat!  
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!  
Pour the milk on the pantry floor!  
Splash the wine on every door!_

I made the mistake of getting up half way through the song and almost had my head bashed in by a flying mug. Luckily Nori plucked it out of the air before it smashed against my skull, something I am eternally grateful for. Can you imagine? Dying before I'd even left Bag End – because of an airborne _teacup!_ No thank you.

_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;  
Pound them up with a thumping pole;  
And when you've finished, if they are whole,  
Send them down the hall to roll!_

I duck into the kitchen - and I do mean duck as there is more plates flying around- just in time to see Bifur catching them without so much as looking over his shoulder. You'd have been impressed, I promise. A worried looking Hobbit watches as Ori carries in a stack of bowls almost as tall as himself, and suddenly we are all in the kitchen.

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"_

From the look on his face, he really did seem like he was hating it! Poor Bilbo. Not that I could blame him, really. Though his face relaxed ever so slightly when he saw the dishes all stacked neatly on the table, the company chuckling around it. Not for the first time since meeting the Dwarfs I wondered if that was a song they all knew or something they had made up on the spot? Seemed a bit too well executed to be something they'd improvised. Evidently they were quite well practised at making a mess and having to clean up.

I saw Mal's dark shape slink back into the dining room, eager to resume his hunt for any dropped food, but no one else appeared to care, because at that moment there was a knock at the door.

All eyes look towards the hallway, Gandalf's gaze catching mine as he says, in what some (myself included) might call an overly dramatic voice. "He's here."

I know who it's going to be. You know who it's going to be. Very anticlimactic.

Gandalf is the one who opens the door, revealing a handsome dwarf who bares a _striking _resemblance to Richard Armitage, of all people! Can you believe it?

"Gandalf," He says, raising his eyebrows to the wizard as he steps into the room. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice."

I snorted. I_ swear_, I couldn't help it, it just came out. The Majestic Thorin Oakenshield got lost in the Shire, not once but _twice! _That's a little funny, and if you don't think so then you're lying.

It did however earn me a cold glance from the would-be King, and one of long suffering from Gandalf.

"I wouldn't have found it at all, had it not been for that mark on the door." Thorin continued, ignoring me (something that happens frequently throughout my adventure, as you'll see.) and removed his cloak.

"Mark? There's no mark on that door!" Bilbo Baggins said, pushing into the hallway with a frown. "It was painted a week ago!"

"There is a mark, I put it there myself" Gandalf admitted, moving to lean against the wall, dodging the chandelier as he did so. He then raised a hand and motioned to the Hobbit. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our Company, Thorin Oakenshield."

"This is the Hobbit?" Thorin asked, folding his arms over his chest and gazing at Bilbo with a barely concealed look of amusement. "Tell me Mister Baggins have you done much fighting? Axe or Sword? What's your weapon of choice?"

I remember I didn't much like the way he was picking on the little guy, if you'll excuse the term. I don't know if it's a human thing, to back the underdog, but I was definitely not warming to Thorin as he circled round the hobbit. Like he was sizing him up. I don't remember him being this much of a D-bag in the film!

"Well I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know," Bilbo, admittedly wasn't making it any easier on himself. "Though I fail to see why that's relevant."

"Thought as much, he looks more like a grocer than a burglar," Thorin scoffed, turning his head slightly to view his companions reaction to his joke. Unfortunately I was also standing behind him, and I wasn't laughing. He noticed that. "And who might this be? It is rare to find one of our own outside, especially a woman."

Perhaps it was just because I had decided not to like Thorin, but that sounded very much like a slur on my gender.

"Ah, this is a friend of mine," Gandalf said, pushing away from the wall. "Thorin, may I introduce Miss Rachel Harker."

"Rachel Harker," Thorin repeated, my name foreign in his mouth. "Not a very dwarfish name."

"Would you prefer Happy, or maybe Sleepy?" Or _Grumpy?_ None of them understood this reference, obviously, my wit and sarcasm wasted. Not for the last time, sadly.

"Rachel isn't from around here," Gandalf said, shooting me a look as he came to my stubborn aid. "I had been hoping, that is to say, that she might accompany us on our journey."

Thorin raised his brows at this, his eyes looking me over as if inspecting me for faults. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared back – inwardly I realised that this was probably not the smartest course of action, getting on the bad side the leader of the company, much less a _King, _but then I've never been very clever.

"And do you fight, Miss Harker?" Thorin questioned with that annoying condescending tone.

"Keep talking to me like that and you'll soon find out." I said. Me and my big mouth, right? Ugh. The answer, though I doubt I need to tell you, is no. I can't fight. I mean, I did a few years of martial arts as a teen – before being forced to stop by my mother after receiving my first ever broken bone – but I had a feeling he was referring to something that involved sharp, pointy things.

My knowledge of sword fighting begins and ends with my sister and I hitting each other with sticks as children.

"You certainly have a sharp tongue," He said after a moments consideration, then snorted. "I don't know how that will benefit you on our quest however."

I grunted and resisted the urge to call him something rude.

Apparently satisfied that I had nothing else to say on the matter, Thorin turned away and headed back into the dining room, his fellow dwarfs following close behind, leaving myself, the hobbit and the wizard. Gandalf let out an irritated sigh which was, for some reason, directed at me.

"You are not helping my efforts for you to join this quest, my dear lady." The wizard said after a moment.

"He was being an arse!" I grumbled. "And he was picking on Bilbo."

"Bilbo Baggins is quite capable of taking care of himself," Gandalf said, though the hobbit gave me a warm smile. "You on the other hand have just insulted Dwarven royalty."

"Well maybe _Dwarven royalty_ should pull it's head out of it's -" I did not finish that sentence, unfortunately, because at that moment Gandalf was called to sit counsel with the dark haired dwarf king. I followed grudgingly, with Bilbo a step behind.

The dwarfs were all squashed in around the table, and though they made room for Gandalf beside Thorin I decided to just lean against wall to their right, and mutter to myself. Someone had provided the newest arrival with a bowl of soup and he was eating in between answering questions about some secret dwarf meeting he'd been at. Thrilling stuff.

Bilbo, who had been hovering around behind Gandalf, piped up, "You're going on a quest?"

I thought that had been obvious, but of course I knew a little bit more about this particular journey than any of the people sat around the table. Spoilers!

"Ah, Bilbo, my dear fellow," Gandalf said, glancing back at the Hobbit. "Let us have a little more light?"

Biblo, ever the good host, nodded and disappeared for a moment before bringing back another candle, which he sat on the table at Gandalf's elbow.

"Far to the east, over ranges and ridges, beyond woodlands and wastelands," Gandalf began. "Lies a solitary peak."

"The Lonely Mountain?" Bilbo read, peering at the map.

I struggled for a moment to look at the map, but failed miserably, and I didn't want to look interested enough to move closer nor fetch my glasses. Gloin began speaking, but I ignored him in favour of petting Mal, who had appeared from under the table a second before. I knew the gist of it anyway.

I returned my attention to the conversation when Bilbo questioned "What beast?"

"That would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age," Bofur supplied helpfully, biting the end of his pipe before continuing. "Airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals!"

Tell me again why I was trying to _join_ this quest?

"Yes, I know what a dragon is!" Bilbo assured him, looking panicked.

"I'm not afraid!" Ori stated, pushing his chair back as he stood. "I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of dwarfish iron right up his jacksey !"

This was met with a mixture of cheers and grumbles, though the latter only appeared to be coming from Dori, who pulled his younger brother back down into his chair with a frown.

I zoned out while contemplating Dwalin's tattoos and missed something important apparently, as the table erupted in shouts and curses a few moments later. It didn't last long, because Thorin pushed to his feet and bellowed "Shazara!" which effectively silenced all the occupants of the room but Malik, who pinned his ears back with a whine.

"If we have read these signs do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread, the dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years, eyes look east to the mountain, assessing," Thorin met the eyes of each of his dwarfs as he gave his speech. "Weighing the risk, perhaps the great wealth of our people now lies unprotected! Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?"

There was much cheering as Thorin called out something in dwarvish that sounded suspiciously like 'Rubicon' – though I doubted very much that he was requesting a refreshing fruit drink. I later found out that what he actually said was 'Du Bekar' which, as I suspected was not mango related in anyway, and actually meant 'To arms'.

"You forget, the front gate is sealed!" Balin cut in, ever the mood killer. "There is no way into the mountain."

"That my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf said, twirling a thick key in his fingers, which no doubt had been stashed in that bloody robe of his.

"How came you by this?" Thorin asked, his voice hoarse. He could really do with that can of Rubicon now!

"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safe keeping," Gandalf said, handing it over. "It is yours now."

"If there is a key, then there must be a door?" Sherlock – I mean Fili, stated.

"These Runes speak of a hidden passage, to the lower halls." Gandalf pointed to the map with the end of his pipe.

"There's another way in!" Kili exclaimed, leaning on his brother. Wow, they're a quick bunch, these two!

"Well if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gandalf said, shaking his head. That's pretty stupid, isn't it? Making a door completely invisible, what if you forget where it is? "The answer lies hidden in this map, though I do not have the skill to find it, there are others that do! The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage – but, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done!"

"That's why we need a burglar!" Ori piped up.

"Yes, and a good one too! An expert I'd imagine!" Bilbo said, stepping back, completely unaware that he himself was supposed to fill that roll. Not for the last time I felt sorry for that little hobbit.

"And are you?" Gloin questioned.

"Am I what?" Bilbo asked, tucking his thumbs behind his braces.

"He said he's an expert!" Oin said, mishearing despite the use of his hearing trumpet.. thing.

"What me? No, no, no, no! I'm not a burglar!" Bilbo said with a nervous chuckle, shaking his head. "I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"I have to agree with Mister Baggins," Balin said. "He's hardly burglar material."

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." Dwalin agreed. There was some muttering and to my surprise Thorin turned his head towards me, his eyes lingering on Mal for a second.

"And what of our lady dwarf?" He questioned.

"Eh?" I replied, intelligently.

"Have you any experience as a burglar?" Thorin questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"No," I said. While this isn't strictly true, I thought mentioning the time I swiped a milky bar from my local newsagents might raise more questions than it answered. Not to mention I'm still riddled with guilt over the whole thing. "No, I think I'd be no better than Mister Baggins at that."

Gandalf took this moment to make everyone in the room wet themselves by towering over all of us and working some quick hoodoo. "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!"

I should point out that Bilbo himself looked as if he strongly disagreed with that comment.

"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet! In fact they can pass unseen by most, if they wish to," Gandalf continued, reigning in his dark cloud of menace. "And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us the distinct advantage!" The wizard sat again, turning to Thorin. "You asked me to find the final member of this company, and I have gone one better! I have chosen Mister Baggins, and Miss Harker! There is a lot more to them than appearances suggest, and they've got a great deal more to offer than any of you know."

I would like to make it clear at this point that I had absolutely nothing to offer to this adventure except sarcasm and poorly timed jokes. I'm also fairly certain Gandalf knew this already. The wizard glanced around the table, daring anyone to disagree. When no one did he turned back to Thorin.

"You must trust me on this."

"Very well, we will do it your way" The dwarf king said grudgingly, turning to Balin as Bilbo made quiet noises of protest. "Give him the contract."

"It's just the usual, summary about pocket expenses, time required, remunerations, funeral arrangements, so forth." Balin explained, passing the thick paper down the table towards the Hobbit who took it with a squeak of "Funeral arrangements?"

"And what of Miss Harker?" Gandalf questioned, his eyes finding mine for a second before fixing back on Thorin. Bilbo headed out into the hallway, unfolding the deceptively long contract as he did so, muttering to himself.

Thorin was silent for a moment before he grunted. "Balin, draw up another contract for the Lady."

"Aye." The grey bearded dwarf said, getting up to find his stationary set, I assumed.

"I cannot guarantee their safety," Thorin said ominously, leaning in closer to Gandalf. "Nor will I be responsible for their fate."

Gandalf hesitated, not quite as long as he probably should have, before muttering. "Agreed."

Out in the hallway Bilbo Baggins fainted.

* * *

**I hope that was all okay! There was a lot of close to movie script in there, but I hope it wasn't boring! Please review if you liked it and if anyone has any suggestions for FiliKili shenanigans during the group's in between times I'd love to hear them! **

**I think my Khuzdul is right, but please correct me if it isn't! And don't forget to revieeewww 3**


	4. An Al-Say-Shun

**Okay, next chapter! To my wonderful reviewers, there were a few questions I think regarding a romantic interest? There will be one! I will also address Rachel's apparent change in age in a later chapter which I hope will clear things up a little bit - once I do I doubt you'll have trouble guessing who the romance will be with XD Also, slight warning because Mal catches and eats a rabbit in this chapter. It's nothing graphic, just a heads up. Please review if you like! **

* * *

Chapter 4

Balin and Ori set to work on writing up my contract, and while Gandalf was doing his best to persuade Bilbo I took my leave and headed into the living room to have a well deserved nap. Don't judge me, I'd had a hard day!

I sunk into one of the armchairs in Bilbo's lounge and I can tell you now it was the squishiest, most comfortable thing I have _ever_ sat on in my life. That includes Bombur, though I'm getting ahead of myself!

Malik attempted to climb up beside me, but he was much too large and I wasn't having any of it. "I don't think so buddy, get your own!" With a dog-like grumble he settled down under my feet, becoming an unwilling footrest in the process.

Alas it was not to be. I had just closed my eyes, the warmth of the fire and the _extreme _cosiness of the armchair doing a good job of sending off to sleep when the sound of chairs scraping made me look up.

Dwalin, Gloin and Oin had entered the room – much to my annoyance. They weren't the only ones, soon all of the company, bar Bilbo, had come in and I realised I was in for yet another song.

It's like a bloody Disney film!

Thorin, in all his grumpy glory, moved to lean against the mantel piece with a long stemmed pipe in his hands. The others either sat on the chairs or stood, looking broody in the doorways.

Very suddenly the dwarfs all began this deep humming, which gave me goosebumps. Seriously, I got chills, it was creepy. Mal glanced up at me with a look that quite clearly said '_Is this really happening again?'_

Yes. It was happening again.

_"__Far over the Misty Mountains cold  
To dungeons deep and caverns old  
We must away ere break of day,  
To find our long-forgotten gold_

_The pines were roaring on the height  
The winds were moaning in the night  
The fire was red, it flaming spread  
The trees like torches blazed with light"_

I held a very secret love for the voice of Thorin Oakenshield, after this song. I don't want to give you the wrong idea here but _damn_! Like I said, chills.

Admittedly I felt a bit awkward afterwards, no one else did though, it seemed. They just sort of drifted away, off to find somewhere to sleep or talked quietly amongst themselves. Almost as if no one thought it weird that they'd just just High School Musical'd me!

"Here you go lassie," Balin said as he approached me, holding out a wad of parchment. "Not quite as detailed as Mister Baggins', but it's got all the important details."

"Oh, thanks Balin." I said, pushing myself up from the suffocating embrace of the armchair. Mal huffed and scrabbled away as I accidentally jabbed my heel into his side, he settled himself down in front of the fire, back to me in a strop. Dog's get annoyed too, apparently?

"Just sign on the bottom there," He said, pointing to the line as I unfolded the papers. "And if you've any questions, I'll be over there."

"Uh-alright, cool!" I said, receiving a someone confused smile before the older dwarf turned away to chat with Captain Moody. I'll save you the details of the contract – it basically just let me know that while I was welcome on the trip no one else was going to be responsible for me. Which is fine. I even got some treasure at the end of it, if I survived that long, as the contract made abundantly clear.

I signed it, despite myself.

After delivering my completed contract back to the white bearded dwarf I returned to my chair, hooked my legs over the side and closed my eyes. The sounds of quite conversation sending me quickly to sleep.

The next morning I was woken from a dreamless sleep by the gentle hand of Gandalf, shaking me awake. I blinked my eyes open groggily and groaned, my body stiff from sleeping in such a stupid position.

"Come now Miss Harker," He said, all smiles and bright blue eyes. "We'll be departing shortly, I should think."

"Oh, yeah, right," I muttered, swinging my legs to the floor while I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. A mighty yawn escaped me. "I'm up."

"Excellent, I shall inquire about breakfast while you prepare," He said, straightening up and heading towards the kitchen where I could hear quiet clattering. "Do try not to dally in the bathroom."

I grunted, muttered something unintelligible and heaved myself out of the chair. I stumbled, heavy footed to the bathroom, picking up my backpack on the way because I remembered the deodorant that was floating around in it's depths.

Mindful of Gandalf's comment about my time in the bathroom, I quickly washed and tended to my business before hunting down bilbo's toiletries. He had a cupboard full of soaps, bubbles and shampoos, not to mention several small round jars that held a minty paste. This had a similar look to toothpaste, and well, that's actually what it was. I snagged a pot, and a bar of soap then buried them in my bag. Don't look at me like that! He had loads and I didn't fancy going this entire journey with gritty teeth and grimy skin.

Huh, maybe I would have made a pretty good burglar?

Anyway, I left the bathroom and went in search of the food Gandalf had mentioned, keeping an eye out for Mal as I went. Unsurprisingly I found him in the kitchen, sitting at Bofur's feet with his tail wagging and his puppy-dog eyes powered to maximum.

"Who's a good lad? Aye, you are!" The floppy hatted dwarf was saying, hand feeding Mal pieces of bacon off of his own plate. What a sap.

"Another unsuspecting victim of your shameless begging, Mal?" I questioned, accepting the plate of bacon and eggs that Bombur offered me.

"How can I say no to that face?" Bofur asked, grinning up at me from across the table.

"Just don't give him any eggs," I warned, tucking into my own. "It gives him gas like you wouldn't believe."

"Fili has the same problem," Kili informed me jovially, from a few chairs down. "Isn't that right, brother!"

"At least you can't smell my feet from the other side of the house," Fili countered, shooting a smirk at his now frowning brother. "Kili hasn't washed his boots in years!"

"Yeah but you-"

"I'm sure you're both smell equally disgusting, in your own ways." I cut in, giving them both a wide smile which caused all the others around the table to laugh. Fili and Kili pouted for a second before joining in.

I stayed behind to help Dori with the washing up before the two of us headed out to join the rest of the party, who had gathered either outside Bag End or were with the ponies, a little way out of the shire.

"Are you ready to go my dear?" Gandalf asked, appearing at my side. I nodded slightly. I had my backpack on my shoulders, the bat looped through the straps along with my fancy cloak and Mal at my side.

"I guess so," I said, patting myself down just in case. Ugh, the frilly bits on my shirt had annoyed me to no end. "Bilbo's not coming, is he?"

"Oh I don't know about that," Gandalf said mysteriously, patting my shoulder. "I think he is more Took then even he realises."

"You think he'll come?" Nori asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I should like to think so." Gandalf nodded.

"How much you willin' to bet?" The star haired dwarf asked, eyes twinkling mischievously. Gandalf huffed for a moment, looking mildly put off by the idea of betting on his burglar – it was only when Oin piped up that he'd take the wager that Gandalf agreed. "And you, Miss 'Arker?"

"Oh, go on then!" I said brightly, not mentioning the fact that I had no gold to actually bet with. Still I was _pretty_ sure of my odds. In that moment I was Biff from Back to the Future 2 and Bilbo was my almanac! I have no shame.

We left then, Nori confirming a bag of gold to whoever was right about the Hobbit and Gandalf pulling the circular green door closed behind him. The wizard lead the way to where the rest of the company was gathered, around a line of sturdy looking ponies.

I don't much like ponies.

These ones seemed nice enough, friendly, or whatever but I'm not a fan. Horses, cows, and ponies are not on the list of animals I relate to. I'd ridden a horse before, under strict supervision and when I wasn't 4 foot high – still, I didn't plan on walking to Erebor.

"Have you ridden before?" Dwalin's gruff voice asked from behind me. I admit that question threw me for a moment before I realised he was talking about ponies.

"Uh," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "It's been a while."

"You'll take Betty, here," The bald headed dwarf said, moving over to pat the flank of a dusty brown pony with chocolate splodges. Betty_, ahem,_was sporting several bags, as well as a sleeping roll and a saucepan or two. "She'll not be hard to control."

"If you say so," I muttered, not convinced. I spent a moment attaching my backpack to the saddle, making sure it wouldn't fall off. "So, how do you get on one of these things?"

I turned around and frowned, Dwalin had moved off at some point during the time I'd had my back to him. How was I supposed to get up there? I'm a dwarf!

"Shit!" I grumbled, tentatively patting Betty's neck. Mal gave her a curious sniff, the pony ignored him completely. Everyone else was getting onto their ponies now. There was nothing for it, I'd have to try myself. "Here goes!"

I wedged my foot into the stirrup, making sure it was the right foot, I didn't want to have to pull myself up backwards. Then I grabbed the saddle horn and heaved.

Something I had noticed about being a dwarf, is that I was a lot steadier on my feet. Not that I was _overly_ clumsy as a human, but I'd been pretty prone to tripping or knocking into things. As a dwarf I found that didn't happen so much – lets chalk it up to a lower centre of gravity! I was also, surprisingly, a lot stronger.

I hadn't been expecting that. It was a lot easier to pull myself up, and as a result I had pushed off a little too forcefully, almost sending myself flying over the saddle. No one said anything, though I'm sure they all heard the tiny squeak I gave before I managed to regain control of the situation.

Betty didn't even bat an eyelid at me.

Despite my over enthusiasm to seat myself, I am proud to say I managed it without falling or maiming myself. Phew. Betty dipped her head and pulled at the grass, not giving a shit.

At a shout from Thorin the entire company began to move forward, myself included! It took a moment of wildly flapping the reins and a pitiful nudge of my foot - so light I'm pretty sure Betty didn't even feel it- before the pony started walking, plodding along after the rest of her friends.

It was quite a boring start actually.

Mal trotted along beside me for a while, till he got bored and moved on to sniff things and generally get in the way of everyone else. He seemed to be enjoying himself though. At one point he shot off across the ridiculously green fields that surrounded us, in hot pursuit of a rabbit.

"Is he going to be okay?" Kili asked, nudging his pony forwards till he rode a little to my left. I shrugged.

"He's a big boy, I doubt the rabbits will give him much trouble." I said, smiling.

"What if he gets lost?" Fili asked, appearing on my other side. I have learnt to be weary of these two when they are together (which is always), because, as I said before, they are not to be trusted.

"Then he's stupid, isn't he?" I said with a snort. There were a few trees dotting the path we were taking out of the Shire, but the rest was open ground, if a bit hilly. "What's he going to do, fall down a rabbit hole?"

"I suppose not," Fili huffed. "What is he, anyway?"

"I believe the more educated people of the world would call him a dog," I replied with a smile, Fili frowns at me. "He's an Alsatian."

"An Alwhat?" Kili is confused by this word, it seems.

"Al-Say-Shun!" I repeated slowly. "A German Shepherd."

"How is he both this Alsatian and a German Shepherd?" the dark haired dwarf questioned, still baffled. It's entirely too early to be dealing with these questions.

"It's two different names for the same thing, like-" I start, then struggle for a comparison he would understand. "Like how a Hobbit is sometimes also called a Halfling!"

"I see," He muttered, though I was pretty sure he didn't. "He is a breed native to your homeland?"

"Yup." I nod, watching as Mal makes an impressive dive after a rabbit and very almost does disappear down a hole.

"You were dressed very strangely when you arrived," Fili observed, one hand lazily holding the reins while the other rubbed his chin, sending his moustache braids swinging. "Where exactly is your home?"

"In a land far, far away," I replied, ever the master of vagueness. "Oh, he got one."

Mal bounded up to me then - saving me from any further awkwardness - a rabbit hanging limp in his mouth and a proud look on his face. I grimaced as he shoved it against my leg, making annoyed grunting noises when I didn't take it.

"I don't want it, you mug," I snapped, pushing him away. "You keep it!"

Malik shook his head with a sneeze, then hurried off to the front of the group without a backwards glance. I saw him briefly nudge the rabbit at several other members of the company before promptly tearing into it.

"I would've had the rabbit!" Kili said, frowning.

"You're more than welcome to try and take it off him," I mused, slightly disgusted by my faithful companions table manners, or lack of. "You've got a fairly good chance, as long as you don't mind losing a finger or two?"

Not that there was much left to take any more...

Thankfully the arrival of Bilbo gave me a good enough reason to move away from the brothers, before they could start asking more questions. The little hobbit was running full tilt towards us, thick feet carrying him over the soft grass with little trouble as he waved his contract.

"Everything seems to be in order," I heard Balin say a little way ahead of me, once he has looked over the contract. "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield!"

"Give him a pony!" Thorin calls, turning his own pony away to continue walking.

"No, no no!" Bilbo said, holding his hands up. "That wont be necessary! I'm sure I can keep up on foot, I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know! Even got as far as Frogmorgan once!"

His protests were cut short however, when Fili and Kili - both wearing matching grins- rode past and hoisted the hobbit into the air! Bilbo spluttered and grumbled as he was placed, quite against his will, onto the back of Myrtle. Neither of them happy about the arrangement it seemed.

I rode beside him for a while, glad for his appearance despite the fact I knew he would come, and that I wasn't the only person on this journey who didn't have much experience in questing.

"What made you change your mind?" I asked, curious. Bilbo blinked and looked at me, a small smile on his face as he shrugged.

"I-I don't know, really," He admitted with a nervous chuckle. "I suppose I noticed that it was very quiet after you all had left. I think, though I may later regret it, that I have lived quietly for far too long."

I don't think there's much _may_ about it, personally.

"Fair enough," I said, watching as Gandalf slowed his horse till it walked on Bilbo's other side. "Glad to have you."

"Thank you!" The hobbit said brightly.

"Come on Nori," Oin called from in front slightly. "Pay up."

Kili and Fili watched with frowns as Nori chucked a small bag of gold to the hearing-impaired dwarf, who stuffed it into his pocket with a chuckle.

Another bag flew between us, caught by Ori, and then I was faced with a daunting prospect as Nori aimed another bag towards me. Catching.

Oh dear.

I'm actually not bad at catching, my problem is catching on horseback, or ponyback I suppose. If I drop it, I have to dismount, pick up the gold and then get back _on_. Not a pleasing idea. There is no time to suggest he pass it to me nicely, as it's already sailing through the air and _shockingly_ into my outstretched hand.

"Awesome!" I say out loud. Earning a frown from Gandalf who is explaining to Bilbo why all this money is being thrown around. Bilbo looks somewhat pleased at the fact that no _everybody _bet against him, but says nothing, in favour of a sneeze.

"Ugh, oh, this horse hair, having a reaction! " He sighed, patting himself down. "Uh, no wait, _wait!_** Stop! **Stop, we have to turn around!"

"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked, exasperated.

"I've forgotten my handkerchief!" Bilbo says, still rummaging in his pockets to no avail.

"Here!" Bofur calls from a little further up the line as he rips off one of his pockets. "Use this!"

The look on Bilbo's face has me laughing probably more than necessary! I notice, as the ponies start to move again, that while he doesn't use it for Bofur's intended purpose, he does stash it away in his bag.

And so we went on, leaving the rolling hills of the Shire behind. The ponies plodded along at an even pace, steadily eating up ground. I began to ache after a few hours in the saddle, but couldn't fidget too much because I was afraid of falling off of Betty!

Mal ran up and down constantly, never seeming to get tired out as he raced from my side to the head of the trail, then back again. He was making me sleepy, just watching him.

Eventually his majesty called for us to stop, and I gracefully dismounted, managing not to face plant or get my feet stuck in the stirrups. Apparently it was lunch time!

"Make it quick Bomber," Thorin said, striding forwards. "I want to be moving again in half an hour."

I may have groaned, I can't remember.

The rotund ginger dwarf set to digging through one of his saddle bags for lunch. I wasn't expecting a 3 course meal, obviously, but neither was I prepared for the tough dried meat and bread roll that was handed to me.

Still, I was pretty hungry.

"Thanks." I muttered, taking my share and heading off away from the group. My legs felt stiff and my butt hurt from sitting in that saddle, I felt the need to walk a bit. Mal bounced up to me, either because he saw me wandering away or because he wanted food, I couldn't tell.

"Mally, Mally, Mally," I sighed, looking down at him as he walked beside me, eyes fixed on _my_ lunch. "What are we going to do? I don't think I'm cut out for riding."

He dribbled in response.

"You ate a rabbit earlier! And you had most of Bofur's breakfast!" I huffed, Mal wasn't put off, his chocolatey eyes growing larger. "Ugh, It's not going to be the orcs or dragon that kills me, it's going to be you! I'll starve!"

I held out a bit of jerky and he snuffled it up in seconds, eyes returning hopefully to my remaining pieces. I shoved the roll into my mouth, then flung the remaining meaty strips as far as I could. Which still wasn't very far.

Mal leapt after them, pouncing on them as they hit the ground. Stupid animal.

I walked for fifteen minutes or so, and took the time away from the rest of the group to have a wee. I've never liked having to pee in the woods, or anywhere that isn't a toilet for that matter, but needs must. After that I returned back to the group, just in time to receive a stern telling off from our magnificent leader who was already mounted and ready to go.

"Perhaps next time you decide to wander off, you could inform someone?" He suggested, looking down at me from pony-back. I planted my hands on my hips and frowned up at him. "While we are still in fairly hospitable lands, there are still creatures who could pray on one as unprotected as yourself."

"So what, I'm not allowed to wander around on my own?" I asked, still frowning.

"Have you gained any knowledge of fighting in the last few hours?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"No." I said flatly.

"Then no, you may not _wander_ on your own." Thorin replied.

In my experience there are few things that will stump a man as much as the inner workings of a ladies body. Thorin was no exception.

"I'll be sure to ask you to hold my hand next time I need to -" I was going to say take a leak, but I wasn't sure if that saying would be lost on him. It would lose some of it's effect if I had to explain what I meant. "- Relieve myself, shall I?"

He was silent for a moment before he looked away.

"At least tell someone when you are going." He said, then turned his pony and headed off. I stuck my tongue out at his retreating back, earning a look from Balin, who was closest. I stomped back to an uncaring Betty and clambered up into the saddle, legs already aching.

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**There we go! Hope you enjoyed it! Still after ideas for Fili/Kili mischief in future chapters if anyone had suggestions! Please review if you like it and thanks for reading! **


	5. One trip pony

**Thank you to all of you who reviewed! I really love hearing what you think! This chapter is sort of taken from the book, so I'm kind of winging it, hope you like it all the same and that it all makes sense! Please review and I'll love you forever! :D**

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Chapter 5

It was growing dark the next time we stopped.

"There looks a good place to set up camp!" Gloin said, pointing across the fast moving waters to the opposite bank, where a cluster of weeping willows provided a small shelter from the wind.

We had been travelling through a valley, meandering along at the side of a swelling river and looking for a place to cross when Bilbo spotted the bridge. He had good eyes, this Hobbit, unlike me – Oh I could see the bridge, but from this distance I couldn't make out any detail other than it was grey.

We crossed one at a time. The bridge was made of stone and looked sturdy enough (not that I know much about bridges) but wasn't wide enough for anything other than single file. Bilbo's pony, Myrtle, balked a little as she crossed, nervous of the rushing waters that swirled beneath her, but she was the only one. As usual, Betty didn't give a rat's arse.

The light of the rising moon filtered down into the valley, obscured occasionally by a cloud but quickly revealed again by the strong winds, giving us enough light to negotiate our way back to the willows. There was a small clearing within the trees which we rode into.

"Gloin, see to the fire," Thorin ordered once we were all present. I take that moment to stumble from the back of Betty who actually turns her head slightly to look at me with a snort. Result! "Bomber, Oin, prepare supper – Bofur, Nori, the horses."

I am standing beside Betty, with Mal sitting on my feet as everyone else bustles around to start setting up camp. Bilbo catches my eye and gives me a wide eyed look, perhaps wondering if we should help, I shrug.

Gandalf takes this moment to announce he is leaving.

"Where are you going?" I asked, frowning as Nori takes Betty from my side, leaving my rucksack behind for me.

"I am going to look!" He says, smiling at me and being intentionally vague. "I shan't be long."

As I mentioned before it's been a while since I read the Hobbit, and I'm pretty sure Gandalf's departure during the troll incident (one I'm not looking forward to, just so you know) is a lot more angry than this one in the movie. I let him go with a grumble. I don't like not knowing what's going to happen.

"Anything I can do to help?" I ask, swinging my arms uselessly.

"Aye, lass, fetch me some more fire wood," Gloin suggests from where he is kneeling beside a pitiful pile of twigs and leaves. "The fire's going to need more than these sticks in this wind! Take the Hobbit!"

"Alright, Mal, you too!" I say, patting my leg. Mal hops to my side and together with Bilbo we pick our way through the trees, away from the camp and the river.

There isn't much light in the trees, their leaves blocking out the moonlight, so I tried to be careful as I navigated the dark ground. You know I have a torch in my bag, right? Yeah, I remembered it round about this time too.

"Ow!" Bilbo mutters as he stubs his toe on a jutting rock. Got to be careful of them too. The two of us begin to gather while my dog jumps around, leaping in the undergrowth and flicking dirt as he attempts to dig holes.

"You're not helping Mal!" I grumbled, stooping down to pick up a branch, snapping it over my knee before adding it to my small pile. He snorts. "Dog's are meant to be good at bringing back sticks, you know!"

He doesn't care.

"Fine, but you're not getting any of my dinner if you don't pull your weight." I threaten, picking up another log. Bilbo chuckles.

"He's certainly very ener-"

Something that isn't me snaps a twig, and from the mild look of terror on Bilbo's face it wasn't him either. We back up against each other, eyes darting around in the darkness to try and locate the source of the noise. There is some quiet grunting, and some snuffling - out of the corner of my eye I see it move within the trees.

"B-bilbo!" I whisper, tapping his arm as we both turn towards the dark shadow that is trundling towards us. Mal's ears swivel forwards like little radar dishes and he stares into the darkness – I don't find this reassuring at all. I slowly start to back up, dragging Bilbo with me. This has got to be enough fire wood, right? Yeah. Time we got back to camp.

There is a squeaky sort of snarl and Mal launches himself forwards, while I panic and almost drop all my logs. I've heard that noise before.

"It's just a badger!" I say, letting out a nervous laugh. I'm not sure if Bilbo is feeling quite as stupid as I am at this point, getting scared like that.

"Mal!" I snap, keeping my eyes on the dog who's tail is up as he assesses the badger. "Get back here!"

"Oh no!" Bilbo squeaks. The badger darts forwards towards us and I let out an embarrassing little shriek and stumble into the Hobbit. Evidently we have disturbed the badger while it's out looking for something to eat. Don't get me wrong, I'm _usually_ not too scared of badgers, I just don't want it trying to take a bite out of me, Bilbo or Malik.

Mal rumbles a low warning growl to the badger - which gives an angry chitter in reply - and turns on his tail to join us as we make a hasty retreat back to the camp, our bundles of sticks safe in our arms. Mal looks extraordinarily pleased with himself, but he's had a run in with a badger before and not gotten away so lightly.

"There you are!" Gloin said when we returned, beckoning us over with a large hand. "What took you so long?"

"There was a badger." I reply lamely. Badgers can be pretty mean and personally I like to keep my distance, but obviously a single badger isn't going to be much trouble for these guys. Bilbo nods feverishly.

"A badger?" Gloin repeats, at least not laughing in my face. I nod. "Close by, was it?"

"Yeah, not too far away." I tell him, dropping my sticks down beside him with a huff, Bilbo does the same. There are small bits of foliage all over my front, as well as what looks like a woodlouse. Ugh. I brushed that off quickly, suppressing a shudder, then settle myself beside the ginger dwarf.

"I'll let-" Gloin starts to say something, but doesn't get very far as a shout goes up on the other side of the camp.

One of the ponies, hell if I know which one, had spooked at something, rearing up and snorting in fear. Nori and Bofur are moving in to try and calm it, but it stamps down and then bolts, sending the two dwarfs sprawling.

"After it!" Thorin commands, and his nephews leap up to give chase with Bifur a step behind. Gloin lurches to his feet too, scattering the expertly gathered twigs as he hastens after the little horse, followed by Nori and Bofur. Thorin himself charges off after the group a second later.

Have I mentioned that I don't like ponies?

Hm.

It had been my intention to leave them to it, but of course Mal, thinking this a fun looking game, sprinted off after them. You thought I was joking when I said he was going to be what killed me, didn't you?

"Mal get back here you little son of a-" I pushed to my feet, with the plan of chasing after him but Dwalin stops me.

"I'll get him, lass, you see to that fire." The older dwarf orders. I blink.

"Oh uh, No, I think I'd better go-" I reply, uncertain. I'd much prefer to go after him myself. Not just because he's my dog – well, actually that's pretty much it. He's mine, my responsibility and I need to look after him.

Dwalin however is already striding out of the makeshift camp after my idiotic canine, taking the decision out of my hands. I sigh.

"I'll make the fire then." I mutter, regathering up all the sticks and dried leaves that Gloin had messed up. Dwalin is lucky I'm not as useless as I look, building a fire is definitely within my skill-set. I glance up as I grab for my bag, trying to see where everyone else is. Bombur and Oin are still gathering the items for dinner, Dori, with the help of Ori have gone to see to the rest of the ponies. Balin is bent over one of the packs, searching for I don't know what, and Bilbo is hovering nervously, looking like he wants to help but not sure how to do so.

I fumble around for my dads lighter for a moment – I really do carry too much stuff with me – then set to work on setting everything I can on fire.

Within a few moments I have some smouldering leaves which quickly ignite the dried moss, then we're in business! The lighter is stashed back in my bag and I blow a little on the moss to help it along.

Job done.

I sit back as the flames start to lick up around the sticks, a smile on my face. Dwalin still isn't back with Mal however, so I get up and wander to the edge of the Willow trees, squinting into the twilight in an attempt to see where everyone had run off to.

Now would be a really bad time to be attacked by orcs, what with half the company (and probably the most capable half) off chasing a pony.

"You alright lassie?" Balin asks, coming to stand beside me. I nod slightly.

"Yeah, I was just wondering what was taking them so long." I muttered, the old dwarf chuckled.

"Fili and Kili are fast, but even they can't outpace a pony that quickly, Thorin will keep them all safe," He said, patting me on the shoulder and turning away again. "They'll not be long, I'm sure."

I nod again, still frowning. Balin doesn't seem to realise that Mal is more of a hindrance than a help and is likely to scare the pony more. I don't like not knowing what he's up to. Still I return to my place by the fire, scuttling backwards slightly so Bombur can set up his pots, and I wait.

Dinner is almost ready when the pony chasers return. Sandy, as it turns out, had run right into the river, not realising that it curved around a stand of trees instead of flowing straight onwards. The poor pony was still snorting, eyes wide in panic after her unintended swim as Nori leads her back to the others.

Fili and Kili are forced down beside the fire -by their furious looking uncle- soaked and shivering with sour expressions - because of course they had been the ones to leap in after the struggling pony in an attempted rescue. I learn later that this was a particularly stupid idea. Not because of how cold the water was (apparently dwarfs are quite resistant to most illnesses, colds included), but because neither of them are overly strong swimmers and they had more trouble getting out then Sandy did.

I am also unsurprised to find Mal soaking wet. He trots over to me happily, splattering water with every wag of his tail and a grin on his face. I am on my feet before he reaches me because one of his favourite games after a swim is to stand right next to me and then shake it like a polaroid picture.

"Get away from me!" I yelp, hopping to the side as he begins to convulse, sending water flying in every direction. I still get some on me, despite being almost on the opposite side of the camp at this point. "Dwalin!"

"Sorry lass," The dwarf said gruffly, not even a little sorry. "He jumped in before I could stop him."

"Some good you are." I mutter in annoyance.

"A good thing too," Bofur says, looking a little soggy himself as he motions to Fili and Kili. "Pushed these two right towards the bank he did."

"Aye, he's smart, that one." Dwalin said, nodding towards Mal who had settled himself down beside the warmth of the fire to dry off.

"Oh yeah, a real Krypto." I agree sarcastically. None of them understand of course. I don't believe Mal was intentionally helpful - he is never intentionally helpful - he loves swimming and was probably just trying to get the boys to play with him, not because he wanted to be a hero.

It's upsetting to admit but at the moment my dog is more popular than I am.

Great.

Thorin is pacing angrily back and forth on the other side of the fire, face like a slapped arse. I assume because his sisters sons almost drowned themselves, and am half tempted to ask what happened, but considering he looks as if he might actually try and kill me, I decide against it.

Gandalf conveniently reappears just as Oin is dishing out supper. I have several theories about where the wizard keeps disappearing off to over the course of this adventure, none of which reflect very well on him, so I'll keep them to myself.

Dinner is some sort of soup with a hearty chunk of bread which I tuck into with gusto, since Mal has apparently been gifted with his own portion and I want to be finished before he comes begging for mine. No one else has taken Malik's appetite into consideration and they are all enjoying their soup at a leisurely pace, the fools. On the opposite side of the fire Bofur is telling Gandalf of Sandy's little escapade, which the wizard is finding a little too amusing.

I finish my dinner in record timing and sit back with a sigh. I've never been a fan of soups, and by the end of this journey I will absolutely loathe them.

After receiving various pieces of everyone else's dinner including, to my surprise, Thorin's, Mal comes and sits back down with me – still damp. I scratch behind his ears with one hand and dig around in my bag with the other, pulling out my book.

There's plenty of light from the fire to see by so I settle down, ready to become engrossed in a world of fantasy! Well, a different world of fantasy, I suppose, since I'm already pretty engrossed in this one.

I get three pages in before someone sits down beside me. It's Ori, and he has a shy but curious look on his face. I raise my eyes to him over my book, an eyebrow arched.

"Ori?" I question.

He flusters for a seconds, his own book clutched tight against his chest. I wait as patiently as I can and after a few more moments of fidgeting he finally speaks.

"That's an interesting looking book." He says quietly, eyes twinkling. I suppose it is a bit of a strange looking book compared to his with it's brightly coloured cover. Evidently paperbacks aren't very popular in this world since Ori's book is a large leather bound tome.

"Uh, I guess it's a little different to yours," I say with a smile. Oh dear, how am I going to explain this one? "What's yours about?"

"I'm documenting our journey," Ori tells me excitedly, pulling open his book so that I could see the first few pages. "There's not much in here yet, but I hope to fill the whole journal."

"Wow, that's a fairly large undertaking," I say, leaning forward to see his work. I frown. He is writing in squiggles. "Ori, what kind of language is that?"

He looks at me as if I'm an idiot.

"These are dwarfish runes." Ori tells me, running a finger over the page. Of course they are, how silly of me!

"Can't you read it?" Kili asks, dropping down on my left with his brother beside him.

All I wanted to do was read my book, is that too much to ask?

I look up to see the brothers staring at me expectantly, and they aren't the only ones paying attention to what I had foolishly considered a _private _conversation between Ori and myself. My eyes seek out Gandalf who's wonderfully blue eyes are watching me from across the fire, an amused smile on his face.

"No, no I can't read it." I say after a moment when the wizard doesn't jump to my aid, there is some muttering.

"But you're a dwarf!" Fili says with a laugh. "How can you not read runes?"

"How have you lasted all these years without knowing runes? Even the youngest of our kind are taught to read and write runes," Thorin's voice rumbles from beside Gandalf. I pout, still frowning. "Next you'll be telling us you can't speak Khuzdul."

_Oh dear_.

I obviously remain silent for far too long because Kili lets out a howl of laughter, followed by Fili's barely suppressed laughter.

"You can't?" The younger heir wheezes, clutching his sides.

"Is this true?" Thorin questions. I can't tell if he is amused or horrified by this information.

Why is this happening to me?

"No, I can't speak Khuzdul." I confirm. I'm not even sure I _pronounced _it right.

"Are you sure she's even a dwarf?" Dwalin questions with a snort.

"I am starting to wonder." Thorin replies flatly.

"I can speak other languages you know!" I snap. And instantly regret it. My knowledge of other languages is GCSE level French and broken Japanese from badly subbed anime.

"Oh?" Thorin says, leaning forwards slightly. "And what might they be?"

"Uh... F-french," I mumble. Shit. Shit. _Shit_.

"French?" The exiled king asks, his thick eyebrows drawing down into a frown. "What is French?"

"It's uh, it's a language spoken near my homeland." I supply vaguely, hoping that this will be enough to appease his grumpiness. It is not.

"Speak it." He commands.

I'm completely screwed at this point because every single pieces of French I have ever known, bar one phrase, has deserted me. It's not like they're even going to know what it means, but it's just not the kind of thing I'd planned on saying to bloody _Thorin Oakenshield_ – UGH!

"Voulez vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?" I spurt out, wincing as I speak. This is followed by various random words like '_Poisson_' and _'Chien'._ All in all this is one of my most embarrassing moments in Middle-Earth – on any earth actually.

"What's that mean?" Ori asks, his eyes wide, eager.

"Uhm, it's hard to translate," I say, waving my hand in a dismissive gesture. "Maybe another time?"

"Oh, okay," He says, looking crestfallen. "Perhaps you'd like to hear some Khuzdul?"

"What? Oh, yeah, I'd love to!" I say. If I'm going to be a dwarf for much longer I suppose I should start acting like one – and if that means joining in on their secret sleepover language I guess that's what I'll have to do.

"I can teach you!" Kili declares, edging forwards so that he is now sitting in front of me, almost on top of a disgruntled Malik.

"No you can't!" Fili counters with a scoff. "You've barely learnt it yourself!"

"I think I'll just let Ori help me out with this one," I say with a smile to the two of them, fending off the upcoming argument. "Thanks for the offer though."

They both huff and sit back slightly, sulking. Ori starts to explain the basic principles behind the dwarven language, quietly, so's not to be heard by Bilbo and Gandalf. This is rule one. The first rule of Khuzdul is that you don't talk about Khuzdul! He tells me it is one of the dwarfs most well kept secrets, and is rarely spoken in front of outsiders.

And so begins my first lesson in becoming a real dwarf.

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**So there you go! Hope you liked it, please review and stay tuned for the next chapter! **


	6. 23 going on 200

**This chapter is potentially not as good as it could be, I just really, _really_ want to get past it. In all honestly I didn't really think much into the age different of the main character and the love interest so this is my hastily thrown together attempt at reasoning. Also I've taken slight liberties with Thorin's age and am making him about 175 instead of 195! My apologies, lets just forget about it shall we? Good. Hope you like it and please review! **

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Chapter 6

The next day of travelling goes much the same as the day before it, though Thorin and I do not argue over the needs of my bladder - Instead he decides to complain about how it is inappropriate for one such as myself to teach Fili, Kili and Ori my 'travel games'. This includes eye-spy, though they already know it as '_What I see_', which is not nearly as good a name – along with the word association game.

I think this is the real reason why Thorin is annoyed with me, he's not a fan of this game. The word association game, for those of you that don't know it, is where you pick a word – lets say tree- and then the next person has to say the first thing that comes into their head relating to that word. A little something like this: Tree, leaf, green, grass, blah blah blah. It's one of those games you play on really boring car journeys on the way to see your great aunt Marge who lives at the arse end of the world.

Really I'd just wanted a way to pass the time, but apparently that's not allowed either!

Not to mention Fili and Kili are not very good at it.

They get distracted too easily. I will say tree, Ori will say Maple and Fili will say Oak so Kili will launch into a story about Thorin _Oakenshield. _It gets to a point where I leave them to it, tentatively nudging Betty forwards and away from Fili's retelling of when he and Kili were younger and trying to catch frogs. I don't even know how they got onto that one.

Unfortunately my leaving them bought me closer to where Thorin and Balin rode. The king under the mountain glances over his shoulder, pausing for a moment as he sees me.

"You should not encourage such juvenile games with Fili and Kili," He tells me, turning back to face where he is going. "Your time would be better spent learning the language of your people."

"It's just a game," I snort, rolling my eyes. This guy is such a wet blanket. "Besides, I don't think I've ever met guys as childish as them!"

I know some pretty immature people, but Fili and Kili take the cake, hands down.

"My nephews are still young, capable but inexperienced," Thorin says, looking back at me again, his pony slowing slightly. "You on the other hand are old enough to know better."

I squint at him. What's _that_ supposed to mean!

"They aren't _that_ young!" I say.

"Fili is 80 and Kili is only 75," Thorin says, shaking his head slightly. "The only reason they were permitted to join our quest is because they are of Durin's line."

I should have answered him, but I think my jaw was still trailing along the floor at this point. What. The. Fuck? Fili and Kili are both well on their way to being 100 years old? They look about 25!

"Are you okay, Miss Harker?" Balin asks, also slowing his pony.

I am not sure I am, no.

"Are you shitting me?" I question, looking between the two of them in disbelief. My phrasing has them stumped, but right now I could care less. "They're 80 and 75?!"

"Aye, though they act as though they are still 50 and 45!" Balin says, giving a mirthful chuckle. Oh yes, 30 years ago, back when they were _still kids_. What the hell is going on here?

"As I say, they are still young," Thorin almost sighs, as if his nephews pranks are a source of physical pain for him. "They seem fond of you- (there is an unspoken _'though I don't know why_') – so perhaps you could try not to embolden their antics."

"I- uh..." More intelligent conversation from yours truly.

I have this sinking feeling in my stomach, as if I'm not quite getting something about this conversation. You know, like something should be clicking, a final piece to a puzzle but hell if know what it is. Obviously I am still giving off a confused vibe, thankfully, Balin is here fill in the blanks and to plunge me into a deeper depression.

"I think what Thorin is trying to say, lassie, is that as you might be a good influence on them," He smiles at me. "You've proven yourself to be... strong willed -" His eyes flick to Thorin so quickly that I think I might have imagined it for a moment. "- It may benefit them to have an older female presence on our quest, their mother has al-"

"Sorry, just how old do you think I am, exactly?" I cut him off, my eyebrows drawing down.

It seems that, no matter what world you're in, men are always hesitant to comment on a woman's age. Even Thorin looks as if he'd rather fight an orc pack than answer.

"What do you mean, lass?" Balin asks, feigning ignorance.

"How. Old. Do. You. Think. I. Am?" I grind out. I have a very sneaking suspicion that I'm not going to like the answer. If I ever get one that is.

These guys are planning to face a dragon but won't tell a chick how old they think she is? Good luck with Smaug boys!

"Well I-" Balin starts. "That is to say I-"

"Kili!" I shout. I am impressed that I manage to get Betty to turn around without much effort on my part. She just sort of huffs and makes a 180. The dark haired _75 year old_ boy looks up with a guilty expression, as if he's done something wrong and he's been expecting to get into trouble about it for a while. I motion for him to join me and he nudges his pony forwards till he's beside me.

"Kili, how old do you think I am?" I ask him. He blinks, obviously not what he'd been expecting.

Perhaps it was unfair of me to ask him, but I know that out of everyone in the company Kili is the least likely to see anything other than a simple question and therefore give me an honest answer. Thorin mutters something behind me, possibly trying to delay his nephews answer. That doesn't work.

"I don't know," He answers with a shrug. "140?"

There is a sigh from behind me, Balin I think, since Thorin is groaning.

"140?" I repeat, he nods and tilts his head to the side, doing a pretty good impression of Mal at his hungriest. I nod too, more because I don't know what else to say, my brain has lost all thought except that number.

"Why do you ask?" Kili questions, still drawing a blank.

"Nothing, Kili," I say faintly, shaking my head. "Excuse me, I- uh – I need to talk to Gandalf."

Betty is sensitive to my light jabs as I spur her back down the line to where the Wizard is riding along with Nori and Gloin. The ginger haired dwarf sees me coming and nudges Nori, the two of them quickly make themselves scarce. Even Mal decides it's probably best to hang back.

"Ah, Rachel my dear, whatever is the matter?" The human asks, smiling at me with those annoyingly kind eyes.

"You didn't think to mention that I'm 140 years old?" I hiss.

"Closer to 145, I'd say," He says cheerily. I splutter. "I am sorry my dear, but I'm not sure I understand what's wrong."

"I'm not 145!" I snap, allowing my hands to remove themselves from the reins in favour of pulling my hair out. "I'm twenty-fucking-three!"

"Are you really?" Gandalf sounds perplexed by my statement. "How very strange."

"Why is this happening to me?" I groan, just managing to stop myself from rocking back and forth in the saddle, for fear of falling out.

"Come now, Miss Harker, surely it's not all bad?" The wizard asks.

How can this not be all bad?

"How is it _good_? Not only have I somehow been forced into a different bloody world, but now I've apparently aged 120 odd years!" I say, almost in tears. "I've lost so many years of my life in less than a fucking day!"

If Gandalf is appalled by my language he doesn't say anything, which, considering how I feel right now, is probably a good thing. I don't need him trying to wash my mouth out with soap.

He hmm's for a moment, blinking.

"Have you really?" He asks, almost to himself. "Dwarfs live extraordinarily long lives, some to the age of 400, though that really is quite exceptional. Even at 145 you still have a plenty of time to live, certainly longer than you would as a human."

I'm not sure if this is meant to make me feel better, but he does make an interesting point. I sit back, confused about what I'm supposed to be feeling right now – it probably goes without saying that I've never been in this situation before.

It sounds strange, doesn't it, that I go from being a 23 year old human to a 145 year old dwarf – but this isn't really a regular day at the park, is it? I guess I sort of knew something was different, I mean I do look a little older - but I thought that was just universe travel fatigue or something. Apparently not. I certainly don't _feel_ 140! I have a theory though, if you want to hear it?

Well it's my story so you don't get a choice.

I think that maybe, the world of Middle-Earth exists parallel to my earth and that the people living in my earth are mirrored somehow in this universe. Perhaps this body, Rachel Harker the dwarf, existed before I even got here? Under a different name maybe? I don't know. It's just a guess. Might explain why Mal didn't change at all – they don't have German Shepherds here, so he just turned up as he was.

Maybe that's completely wrong, and I'm just the unluckiest person in all of history.

Right, sorry, back to the story.

"I'm still unsure how you came to be in Middle-Earth," Gandalf continues, patting me as he rides past. "Perhaps you were sent here for a purpose, perhaps you arrived quite by accident – either way it does seem a shame to waste your time here worrying over things you cannot change."

He leave me then, humming under his breath as a mull over my new predicament. I stay to the back of the group for the rest of the days travel, sulking to myself and contemplating the fact that I am actually a legitimate adult in the world of Middle-Earth.

By the time Thorin allows us to make camp for the night I am in no mood to socialise with the rest of the company. Not only am I still confused and angry with my ageing situation, but I am also sore from another day of being in the saddle.

I stand well back with Bilbo, out of the way of the others who know what they're doing as they set up camp. The Hobbit is rocking back and forth on his feet, once again looking as if he wants to help but not sure what he can do. I'm not interested in even offering my assistance today, I just want to have something to eat and go to bed.

I'm not the only one who feels like this it seems, since as soon as dinner is all finished and squared away, most of the company lie down and are instantly throwing up the Z's. Gandalf, along with Fili and Kili -who are keeping watch- are the exception. Oh, and me too.

I can't sleep, no matter which way I turn or how many times I count backwards from a hundred. There are too many thoughts swirling around my head, too many questions I want answers for and I can't shut them out. I groan to myself and push up into a sitting position. Mal raises his head sleepily, realises I'm not leaving and flops back down at my feet. Lucky bastard. Mal can sleep anywhere, any time.

Apparently I'm not the only one who can't sleep though. Bilbo is standing a little off to the side, discreetly feeding an apple to his pony. He gets on a lot better with Myrtle than I do with Betty it would seem. The hobbit seems quite content, patting Myrtle's nose and whispering quietly to her – until a screech-like howl echoes through the night.

Malik is on his feet in seconds, letting out a low rumble of his own as he leaps over myself and the other sleeping dwarfs to the edge of the outcrop we are camping on. Ears pricked, tail up, he paces back and forwards as another skin crawling keen comes to us on the wind.

"What was that?" Bilbo asks, pointing out over the edge.

"Orcs." Kili says slowly, seriously. I'm sure you all remember where we are now.

"Orcs?" Bilbo repeats as he skips nervously over to the fireside. Thorin, who had until this point been cat napping against a large rock, jerks awake. Glancing around slightly as if unsure what had woken him. His eyes meet mine and I can't help the smirk that spreads over my face. His expression bares a striking resemblance to Mal's when he surprises himself with a sneeze.

"Throat cutters," Fili clarifies, filling his pipe. "They'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them."

Bilbo's face. I shouldn't laugh. Really.

I get up, snorting into my sleeve and grab hold of Mal, who is still patrolling back and forth along the drop.

"They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams," Kili says darkly from behind me. "Just lots of blood."

I glance back over my shoulder just in time to see the two heirs of the Durin line share a cheeky grin with each other, chuckling.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin's voice rumbles as he gets to his feet. Bilbo turns back and frowns, realising. "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

Well not any more they don't!

"We didn't mean anything by it." Kili says quietly, looking suitably unhappy. Thorin stalks past them with a grim look.

"No you didn't," He replies. "You know nothing of the world."

Well. That was certainly an awkward moment to witness. Both Fili and Kili are now refusing to look anywhere but at their own feet and Sir-Broods-a-Lot has gone off in a disappointed huff.

Malik, oblivious to the drama happening behind him, refuses to leave his new guard post, and I don't feel like arguing with him. I sit down, my legs dangling over the edge of the rock so that I can stare out at the nightscape. The moon is illuminating everything in silver, and I've got to admit it actually looks quite nice, despite the occasional orc howl being thrown in.

"Don't mind him laddie," Balin starts to speak behind me, moving out of the shadows at the edge of the camp. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs."

Not that it takes much to hate orcs.

"After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria," The old dwarf began."But our enemy had got there first."

Probably just as well, considering that big fiery bastard is holidaying in there somewhere.

Mal finally came to a stop and sat beside me, leaning into me and almost pushing me off the bloody cliff. He forgets that I'm small now. I divided my attention between listening to Balin and running a hand through the thick fur on Mal's side.

"Moria had been taken by legions of orcs, lead by the most vile of all their race," Balin remembered, his eyes seeing something no one else could. "Azog, the Defiler!"

Cue intense instrumental.

"The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin," Balin said. I glanced back. Bilbo looked both fascinated and appalled by the story, his gaze flicking from Balin then over to the form of Thorin, who stood at the edge of camp, eyes fixed on the sky. "He began.. by beheading the king."

Ouch.

"Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief," Balin said. Can't really blame the guy. "He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know."

Now that sucks, (oh, hello understatement of the year) having your grandfather beheaded and your dad go MIA all in one day?

"We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him," No prizes for guessing this one guys. The old dwarf smiled, turning his head to look at Thorin. "A young dwarf prince, facing down the Pale Orc! He stood alone, against this terrible foe." Pause for dramatic effect. "His armour rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield!"

Fili and Kili are completely rapt by the retelling, though I've no doubt that they've heard it a thousand times before. Bilbo looks a little overwhelmed. You and me both mate.

"Azog the Defiler learned that day, that the Line of Durin would not be so easily broken," Balin said proudly. There is a longer pause in which Balin is lost in thought before he continues on. "Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back! Our enemy, had been defeated!" He said finally, his eyes sad. "But there was no feast, nor song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived."

Several of the dwarves have woken up during the retelling of the Battle of Azanulbizar, and were now standing, watching Thorin. Little weird if you ask me, but I still don't really get this dwarf thing yet.

Inwardly however, I was shitting myself. This battle sounded awful – this kind of fight just doesn't happen in my world, right? And here I am, smack bang in the middle of it. Good job Rachel, no, really, great work.

"And I thought to myself then," Balin said, nodding. "There is one who I could follow, there is one I could call King."

At these words Thorin turns, his eyes shining in the darkness as he faces his company. He starts forwards, moving between them to return to his bed roll.

"But the Pale Orc," Bilbo interjects, looking between Balin and Thorin quickly. "What happened to him?"

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came," Thorin's voice sounded harsh compared to the gentler Balin. "That filth died of his wounds long ago."

Well, he was half right at least. I'm sure he did slink back into his hole at some point.

Gradually the company returned to sleep, though Gandalf remained awake, puffing on his pipe in the darkness and thinking wizardy thoughts.

I stayed with Mal, perched on the edge as I tried to puzzle out just what I was doing here and how on Middle-Earth I was going to survive to the end.

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**So there you have it! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed for the last chapter and followers/favourites! Little bit more exciting in the next chapter I hope! Please review, thanks for reading! **


	7. Senseless Company

**Okay! Next chapter! Hopefully this one is a little more exciting! Please read and review! Much love to all who have favourited/followed/reviewed in the past, I appreciate it! **

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Chapter 7

It had been raining constantly since we'd set off that morning, heavy showers that had only stopped about two hours ago. I'm still a little damp, if you care. Even Mal looks as if he's ready for this day to be over, and that's saying something.

All I've done today is yawn – a product of my terrible nights sleep – and shiver, whilst awkwardly dodging invasive questions about my 'homeland'. Oh, I did a bit of sulking first thing in the morning too, can't forget that. There was a little bit of talk between Bilbo and Gandalf earlier on - started when Gandalf got sassy about the rain - in which the grey clad man told us about his super exclusive wizard boy band. So exclusive in fact, that there are only five of them – two of which he can't remember the bloody names of.

Honestly it's a wonder he's lived so long.

Other than that, conversation was kept to a minimum and thus resulted in a very boring experience for all of us, even if no one actually said as much. I couldn't have been the only one bored out of my mind. Right?

It's also become abundantly clear that I'm not cut out for travelling for extended periods of time. Not on ponyback anyway, you won't believe how much I ache once I get out of the saddle. So at first I was glad that we were going to stop, but then I saw _where_ we were going to stop and would much rather we had carried on going.

We had come to a halt in a boulder strewn field on the edges of a forest, the skeleton of an old house standing amidst the rocks. Very picturesque! Yeah, you know what's coming now, don't you?

Thorin rode his pony up a little way towards the house, before turning it back towards the rest of us who trailed slowly behind. "We'll camp here for the night."

No, I'd rather not.

"Fili, Kili, look after the ponies, make sure you stay with them." Thorin commanded as everyone began to dismount, my aching self included, though grudgingly. Gandalf wandered away in the direction of the house, I didn't need to see him to know he was getting some bad wizarding vibes from the place.

I made my way over to him, more to get out of the way than anything else. I stepped into the ruin just in time to hear him muttering about the previous occupants of the house, though I didn't catch all the words.

"This place has seen better days." I said, trying to lighten the mood. Gandalf nodded, the look of foreboding remained on his face.

"Indeed it has." He said quietly, placing a hand on the remaining stones.

"Oin, Gloin," Thorin spoke behind us, I glanced back as Oin lifted his hearing trumpet. "Get a fire going."

"I think it would be wiser to move on," Gandalf called absently out of the crumbling doorway. I nodded enthusiastically behind him as Thorin approached. "We could make for the hidden valley."

"I have told you already," Thorin grumbled as he stepped in, his eyes barely touching on me as he glared around the hut. "I will not go near that place."

"Why not?" Gandalf demanded. "The elves could help us! We could get food, rest, advice."

"I do not _need_ their advice." Thorin replied, turning to look at the wizard once he had walked the length of the house. He's such an angry looking little bastard.

"We have a map that we cannot read, Lord Elrond could help us!" Gandalf reasoned, though from the look on Thorin's face he wasn't interested.

"Help?" He says in a low voice. "A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls. The elves looked on and did _nothing_!"

Holy cow, this guy plays the guilt game better than my mum!

"You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather?" Thorin questioned, looking the wizard up and down. "Who betrayed my father?"

"I thought they were different Elves?" I ask with a pout. I am of course ignored, even if it is a valid question.

"You are neither of them," Gandalf said, exasperated. "I did not give you that map and key for you to hold onto the past!"

"I did not know that they were yours to keep!" Thorin snaps, almost before Gandalf has finished speaking.

Gandalf turns away, and he's looking pretty miffed. With a shake of his head he strides out of the shack, leaving me and a red faced dwarf behind.

"Everything alright?" Bilbo asks outside, as Gandalf storms past. "Gandalf, where are you going?"

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense!" The wizard replied curtly.

"And who's that?" Bilbo asked.

"Myself Mister Baggins!" Gandalf says, slightly louder than necessary in my opinion – also not true, I'm still here, right? I grimace to myself as Thorin watches the wizard go, a thunderous look on his face.

"Come on Bombur, we're hungry." Thorin rumbles from the doorway.

I make the mistake of exhaling a little more forcefully than usual, which draws the attention of the exiled prince. Oh dear, in future I must remember not to breathe around him. He regards me for a moment before grunting.

"And I suppose _you_ are sided with the wizard?" He asks, though it sounds more like a curse than a question.

I want to say yes, for the obvious reason that I know what's in store later today – but at the same time I'm really worried that Thorin is going to murder me, and I don't really want that to happen either. Unfortunately I've never been very good at being tactful.

"I'm not agreeing with Gandalf," I say after a moment. This doesn't soften the hard lines on Thorin's face, but he does raise an eyebrow slightly. "But it does seem a bit stupid to bring a wizard along if you're just going to ignore him when he tries to give you advice."

"His _advice _to request help from an Elf?" He almost snarls. Man he can be scary. "I would not expect you to understand."

"I meant about not staying here actually," I reply. I'm getting a bit impatient with the way Thorin is speaking to me. It's not my fault he and Gandalf can't play nicely together. "You can hate the elves as much as you want, I don't care, but at the end of the day Gandalf is right about one thing."

"And what might that be?" Thorin grinds out.

"You can't read that map," I say with a shrug. I can, FYI. You know what's written on it, I know what's written on it, but I'm not going to tell him that – I wanna see Rivendell! "So either figure it out on your own, or grow some balls and do what needs to be done so you can get your home back."

I regret that choice or words almost as soon as I have stopped speaking. Thorin looks ready to explode or throttle me, so without waiting for his reply – or a chance to wrap his hands around my neck - I make a hasty exit and spend the next few hours hiding behind Bombur, trying to think up a plan that will help me survive till morning.

I admit, I was having a bit of a nap when Bofur shook me awake, mattock in hand (Remember I had a really bad nights sleep, okay?!). I blinked blearily, shaking my head.

"Come along Miss Rachel," He said, smiling as he hauled me to my feet. "Our burglar is in need of help."

Everyone else was rushing for their weapons - swords, axes, maces. I stood for a moment, patting a hand to my pocket, where I had clipped my Swiss army knife and torch just before my siesta, then picked up my baseball bat.

I know, I know, not the most impressive weapon but I worked with what I had.

Thorin, of course, led the charge through the trees, following the direction of Fili who had sprinted on ahead to regroup with Kili. I stayed at the back with Mal, keeping close to Dori who was in front of me so I didn't lose my way.

Do you know how hard it is to run through the woods at night in boots that are three of four sizes too big for you? It's pretty damn hard! Even the leather ties that Gloin had given me to tighten them weren't doing much.

Still I did my best.

After much running, grunting and tripping on my part there were suddenly no more trees! I skidded to a halt on the outskirts of the troll camp, bat hanging limp in my hands as I watched the others plough forwards with their attack. They were all incredibly well synchronised– I had a sneaking suspicion that I would just get in the way if I tried to help.

Mal however didn't share such feelings.

He leapt forwards with a snarl, snapping and biting at whichever part of the trolls he could reach, which was everything below the belt, since they were a fair size. Mal chomped down on the ankle of one of the trolls, the nasally one, who let out a shriek.

"Oi! Bert, Tom, whats'at thing!" He shouted, making a grab for the dog who easily jumped out of reach. "It bit me!"

"I don't know!" One of the others replied, swatting at Nori with a massive hand. "Just gwab it!"

I stood watching as Balin and Oin tag teamed one of the trolls, wielding their sword and staff with deadly accuracy. I left them to it, because really what could I do to help? I'm not exactly an expert on fighting, and I've never even seen a troll before.

And man oh _man_ are trolls weird! They've huge - though admittedly my sense of height has been hijacked recently- and they have this leathery looking skin, almost like an elephants. Pretty tough too, by the looks of it, because I can see Kili slicing and dicing but not really getting very far with it. They smell awful too. I am quite content to leave the rest of the company to deal with these three stinking behemoths.

But of course my plans never work out how I want them to.

One of the trolls actually managed to get a hand on Mal, thats when I decided to participate.

The stockiest of the trolls, with the squashed up face, grabbed Mal by his back legs and lifted him off the ground. My eyes widened, because I really, _really_ didn't want to get involved in this fight for fear of accidentally impaling myself on someone else's blade, or being stomped on by a troll – but I couldn't just leave him! I hesitated for almost a full second.

"Malik!" I shouted, my legs moving of their own accord as I dodged dwarfs and trolls alike (though very narrowly) to reach the one holding my dog captive. Mal was barking his head off, trying to pull himself up to bite the hand holding him, but never quite managing it.

"Let go of my dog you over-grown turd!" I yelled, bringing the bat round with all the force and strength I owned.

Baseball bats are not meant to be used as weapons against trolls, it would seem. See previous comment about tough skin.

My bat snapped on impact, jarring my arm and sending splinters flying off in every direction – thought shockingly none into me (or Mal), which is a nice change from my usual luck. It had the desired effect though, the troll dropped Mal, who landed with a grunt beside me a moment later, looking no worse from his kidnapping.

I stood for a moment, looking from the jagged handle of the bat which was still clutched in my hand, to the troll as it bellowed in rage. I threw my hands up in the air with a triumphant "Yes!"

Then my brain caught up with me.

"Shit!" I yelped, diving out of the way as the troll smashed a hand down where I had been standing. "Shit! _Shit!_ Malik!"

Mal is fine, by the way, his fight or flight instincts are far better than mine and he'd moved out of the way well before I'd even thought about it. With Malik safe I did the only logical thing left to do.

I ran. Screaming.

The troll blundered after me, so I dodged around the cooking fire in an attempt to get lost in amongst the other dwarfs. That didn't work. Everyone else has beards and could fight competently! I javalin'd the remaining part of my bat towards the leathery monstrosity, quite pleased that it actually hit him. Unfortunately that's all it did, bouncing off his shoulder a moment later.

"Bollocks!" I curse as the troll lunges after me again. I let out a squeak, briefly debating using a nearby Thorin as a human shield – an idea which I discard quickly – before legging it back over the other side of the camp, where I gracefully trip over a fallen tankard of troll grog.

There is more cursing, which I'm sure surprises you.

The troll is momentarily distracted by Dwalin and his war hammer, which gives me enough time to climb to my feet and run in the opposite direction.

I'm glad to say that, thanks to Dwalin's timely interruption, I managed to escape the troll - but only because he then spotted Bilbo freeing the ponies and went after him instead of resuming his search for me. Which, admittedly wasn't a great turn of events because he snatched up the hobbit a moment later.

And then of course all the dwarfs are forced to stop fighting as Bilbo is hoisted up between two of the stinky trolls. Something he looks understandably unhappy about.

"Lay down your arms," Tom the troll says. "Or we'll wip his off!"

There are a few moments where I think everyone wonders if our leader is actually going to attempt to keep all of Bilbo's limbs in their correct places. Thorin takes his time before moodily throwing down his sword, the others mirror the action, all with equal looks of anger and annoyance. At the trolls or at Bilbo, I am unsure.

I am trying to slink back to the rest of the group when a thick, and quite frankly smelly hand wraps around my waist. And here I thought my luck was turning!

"Gotcha!" The third troll, Bert, chuckled.

"Ugh, bloody hell, never heard of a mint before!" I cringe, wrinkling my nose at the smell of his breath. "Put me down you sack of shit!"

The troll squeezes me a little tighter and I gasp, feeling fairly uncomfortable, I assure you. That sound you can hear? That might be my ribs creaking. Malik jumps to my defence, snarling at the troll's feet, jumping up and trying to snap at his face.

"That's the thing what bit me!" William exclaims, pointing at Mal before making a snatch for him. Mal, being too distracted with me doesn't spot the giant hand coming from behind. He lets out a few savage barks which quickly turn to whimpers when the troll squeezes him too.

"No! Stop it!" I shout, struggling despite the death grip Bert the troll has around me. "You're hurting him! Leave him alone!"

"Put them down!" Thorin's voice booms, though the trolls take no notice of him, since they now have three hostages instead of just the one.

"What should we do wiv'em?" Tom, the squashed faced troll asks.

"Put 'em in the sacks!" Bert says above my head, his rank breath surrounding me.

What follows is a very uncomfortable few minutes where Mal, Thorin, Fili, Kili, Bilbo, Bombur, Balin, Oin and Gloin are shoved unceremoniously into several choice smelling sacks – the others are tied to a spit over the fire, where they continue to shout abuse at their captors.

I'm sure they're all having a terrible time, but I'm not really paying attention, my eyes elsewhere. Mal's sack is thrashing around wildly because they've tied the top and he can't see what's going on. I can't really blame him for panicking, though he probably doesn't understand that they're planning to eat us yet. Still, he's going to hurt himself if he keeps floundering like that.

"Mal!" I call to him, trying to stay calm because Bert is still holding on to me. "Mal, dead, play dead!"

It takes a few moments for my command to sink past his panic, but when it does his sack slowly stills and I am a little less stressed. If he can not draw attention to himself, he might get forgotten about, since he's behind Thorin.

"Why 'aven't you put that one in'a bag?" William asks, stomping over to where Bert is holding me.

"Smells different," Bert says, sniffing at me. I think I might vomit, please clear the splash zone. "Sweet like!"

I'd like to point out that I don't smell sweet at all (especially after a few days travel and no bath), but I suppose a sewage farm could smell like daises compared to a troll.

"Oooh," William says, putting his face much too near to my own. "Let's have a taste."

"Get away from me!" I snap, kicking my legs wildly. "If you try and eat me I'll choke you on the way down I swear to God!"

"Can we eat this one first?" William questions, sniffing at me.

I don't think I should repeat what I said to him, but it wasn't something mother would have appreciated.

"Put it in a sack like the others!" Tom grumbled from his place, turning the spit. "We'll cook it like the west."

"Don't bother cookin' 'em!" William complained. "Let's just sit on them and squash them into jelly!"

"They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage!" Bert says, shoving me gracelessly into a sack and tossing me down practically on top of Mal. It smells almost as bad as the trolls! What have they been keeping in here? Ugh. Luckily they didn't bother to tie my hands, so as soon as the air returns to my lungs I palm my knife and am discreetly trying to cut my way out.

"Ooh, that does sound quite nice." William agrees.

"Never mind the seasoning! We ain't got all night, dawn ain't far away! So let's get a move on – I don't fancy being turned to stone!" Tom grumbles irritably.

I've almost freed myself when Bilbo jumps up in his sack, hopping in front of the dwarf burrito's to address the trolls. That's a pretty good distraction, thanks Bilbo. I roll myself over to the rock Thorin is slouched against, hoping it will provide some cover.

"Wait! You're making a terrible mistake!" I hear Bilbo saying as slice the last side of my sack. Thorin's frown follows me.

"What are you doing?" He hissed at me.

"Shut up!" I snap back quietly. "Stop drawing attention to me and listen to Bilbo, he's trying to help you!"

Thorin looks like he wants to argue but instead just fixes me with a disgusted glare since I'm already out of my sack, crouching behind the rock for the right moment to escape. He probably thinks I'm running away, which,_ technically_ I am, but not for whatever reason he's thinking of.

I dive into the bushes and manage not to knock myself out on a rock or log as I crawl away. No one seems to have noticed my departure so I clamber to my feet and sprint around the clearing then off in the direction of our own camp. This is where I hope to find Gandalf, when he returns to save us all.

I reach the camp, panting and just generally seeming very unfit. My eyes dart this way and that as I wheeze and low and behold there he is, hands on his hips as he looks around trying to figure out where everyone's run off to.

Not very impressive for a wizard.

"Gandalf!" I gasp, his head whips around to face me. "Trolls!"

"Show me!" He says gravely, beside me a second later. I nod, knowing that there isn't time to stop and catch my breath even if it does feel like my calves are about to explode. Oh the sacrifices I make. The two of us race back into the trees, bounding through the undergrowth and headed for the light of the troll fire.

"There are three of them," I whisper as the fire becomes visible through the trees, the muted voices of the trolls and grumbling curses of the dwarves sounding faintly. "Bilbo was stalling them when I left."

"I told Thorin you and Bilbo had a lot to offer," Gandalf said, sounding fairly pleased with himself despite the circumstances. "I am impressed. Come, this way, I have an idea."

"I was hoping you'd say that!" I murmured as I followed the wizard to the left to the higher ground. Ah, and there's the big rock that Gandalf plans to crack like an egg. Cool!

"Now, we must wait a few moments my dear, and hope that Bilbo can hold out a little longer," Gandalf whispers as he crouches down beside me (I'm not crouching, I don't really need to). "Dawn is almost upon us."

"He can do it," I say firmly. I mean, we all know he can.

"I-in fact they all have, they're infested with parasites," Bilbo is saying down in the troll camp. "I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't!"

"Parasites? Did he say parasites?" Oins voice questioned.

"We don't have parasites!" Kili protested loudly a moment later. "You have parasites!"

"Wow, they really don't catch on very fast, do they?" I mutter, more to myself than Gandalf, who chuckles quietly. "Of all the races on Middle-Earth and I had to become part of this one."

"I've got parasites as big as ma arm!" Oin corrects.

"I've got the biggest parasites, I've got _huge_ parasites!" Kili also shouts, almost over Oin's affirmation.

"Bloody hell." I grumble, shaking my head.

"What would you have us do then?" Tom the troll questions. I glance over my shoulder to see the sun peak up over the trees. Not long now. "Let 'em all go?"

"Well..." Bilbo ponders.

"You think I don't know what you're up to?" The troll demands, prodding Bilbo in the chest till he staggers back. "This little ferret is taking us for fools!"

It's embarrassing to say, but I think the troll is smarter than the dwarfs at this point.

"Ferret!" Bilbo objects.

"Fools?" Bert questions.

Beside me Gandalf hops to his feet and climbs up onto the rock, calling out "The dawn will take you all!" in an impressive echoing voice. You've got to hand it to him, Gandalf can make an entrance! I wonder if he waits around for the right moment to appear for the full effect?

I decide it's probably best to wait until the trolls are all dealt with before making my own dramatic entrance, I don't think it will add to Gandalf's flare if I accidentally fall off the boulder or something equally as stupid.

"Who's that?" One of the trolls asks.

"No idea!" Says the second.

"Can we eat him too?" Questions the third.

Gandalf then does a miniature re-enactment of the bridge of Khazad Dum and smashes the butt of his staff down on the rock, splitting it clean in two and allowing the sunlight to pour into the clearing.

I can't really see from where I am but I can hear the trolls start growling and snarling as they're turned to stone, followed by the cheers of the company when they eventually realise that they're saved. Smart bunch, as I've said. I deem this a safe enough time to make my come back and carefully slip between the two pieces of rock, back into the camp.

"Rachel!" Bilbo says, sounding surprised as he sees me making my way over, he looks back over his shoulder to the sacked dwarfs then back to me, looking confused. "But I thought you-"

"I was, but I escaped when you distracted them, and went looking for Gandalf!" I say with a smile, patting him on the back as I extract my knife from my pocket. Mal is my first port of call, because I'm worried he's suffocated or something during his time in that smelly sack.

"You okay buddy?" I ask as I kneel down beside his bag, the bottom of which wiggles feebly as he attempts to wag his tail. I have to be careful to make sure I cut the bag and not him. It's like playing operation! "Alright, hold still mate, I'll have you out in a sec."

Mal shoots out of the bag and pounces on me as soon as I've made a gap large enough for him to fit through. My pocket knife goes flying and I am knocked backwards as he whines and attempts to lick every inch of my face. Evidently we have been separated for too long.

"Ugh – haha – Mal, no, stop!" I am half giggling and half grimacing as his tongue rasps across my cheek. "Eww, get off me!"

He eventually subsides his attack and backs up, tail still wagging. I sit up and wipe the layer of saliva from my face with a look of disgust. I love this dog but he is gross. Then begins the short hunt for my pen knife -which is sticking out of the ground a few feet away- followed by the release of 13 dwarves and a hobbit back into their natural habitat, all of which are happy to be removed from their respective bags.

I allow my feet to wander away from the group as they collect up their weapons and personal effects and head back over to where Gandalf is sizing up the trolls, which are all frozen with similar expressions of pain and anger.

"These are some ugly mother fu-"

"Where did you go to, if I may ask?" Thorin cuts me off as he appears from around the other side of the three large garden statues.

"To look ahead." Gandalf says, his usual cryptic self.

"What brought you back?" The dwarf king asks.

"Looking behind," Gandalf replies pointedly, Thorin gives him what I assume is a nod of apology, though it could just be a regular nod. "Nasty business, still they are all in one piece!"

"No thanks to your burglar." Thorin muses, eyebrows raised.

Gandalf purses his lips, almost as if he is resisting the urge to go into Rafiki mode and whack Thorin in the head with his staff. I'd have done it, personally. "He had the nous to play for time, none of the rest of you thought of that."

"Yeah, you'd all be troll stomach lining if it hadn't been for Bilbo." I step in, folding my arms over my chest crossly. Gandalf sighs.

"Indeed?" Thorin questions, narrowing his eyes at me. "I am surprised to see you still with us, it would seem you were not running away to save yourself, but to get help, perhaps you are more dwarf than I thought."

"Considering how often you're wrong you'd think your apologies would be better! I wouldn't leave Mal behind, even if I let the rest of you did get eaten," I huff back. "Which I didn't – you're welcome by the way. You better say thank you to Bilbo!"

"Do not think to lecture me, Miss Harker," Thorin snaps, taking a step towards me. "I believe I was in charge, when last I checked."

"And that's turned out pretty well for everyone so far, hasn't it?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. Perhaps that was unfair but he's being a dick. Bilbo really did save all our arses. Thorin obviously does not appreciate my words. His mouth is set in a thin line, his eyes hard.

"If you are implying that I am unfit to lead this company -" He starts, his voice dangerously low and I am potentially regretting my so brave defence of Mister Baggins now.

"I'm implying that you're an ungrateful little sh-"

"They must have come down from the Ettenmoors!" Gandalf cut in quickly, his attention turning to the stone trolls.

I'm really getting sick of people interrupting me, even if it is probably for the best. I know, I know. I've been rude, and I shouldn't be, especially to his highness. Something about him just rubs me up the wrong way.

Thorin fixes me with his icy glare for a few moments and I feel almost as if I am being turned to stone too. Tension is probably too gentle a word to use here. Eventually -to my great relief – Thorin decides any further retaliation beneath him, which is just as well I suppose.

"Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?" He asks, still sounding angry as he turns his back to me completely to converse with Gandalf. I spend a few moments making some very unladylike gestures behind his back as they continue you talk.

"Oh, not for an age, not since a darker power ruled these lands." Gandalf says, casting a meaningful glance at the dwarf king who returns it. Luckily neither of them turn far enough around to see the hand signal I am making.

"They could not have moved in daylight." Gandalf mused.

"There must be a cave nearby!" Thorin says.

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**Well now! I tried to include Rachel in the troll scene, not as a fighter but still being helpful and not taking over Bilbo's own role. Hope it's all okay and that you enjoyed it. Please review and many thanks! **


	8. You had one job!

**Next chapter! Yay! I've got a lot more of my other story written up, but I feel like I've been neglecting this one so I figured I'd throw this chapter up first! Thanks to everyone who had followed/reviewed/favourited, it means the world to me! Please keep them coming 3**

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Chapter 8

I've never had much interest in caves, truth be told. I don't like the idea of getting stuck somewhere with rock pressing in on all sides, gives me shivers – luckily the troll cave was nothing like that.

"Ugh, what is that stench?" Nori asks as we descend into the dark, damp depths of the troll cave. That's a bit dramatic sounding, it wasn't as if it was miles underground or anything, just a few feet down into a spacious, smelly cavern. I was trying to set the mood!

"It's a troll hoard," Gandalf says, as if that should be reason enough for the smell. I suppose it is, actually. "Be careful what you touch."

It really does reek down here, like something that's been dead for a while and left out in the sun to rot. Make that several something's. I cough, fighting back the urge to gag while covering my mouth and nose with my hand as I follow Dwalin down the short slope into the cave. The dwarfs split up, each wandering away to see what riches they can unearth in the refuse. I hang around near the entrance, not really wanting to move any further in due to the bones that were scattered across the floor, and the creepy crawlies that slithered between them – at the same time, however, I wanted to get my hands on a sword.

I know, I probably shouldn't be given a weapon that could potentially end up embedded in another member of my group _but_ we all know what's coming up and I haven't even got my bat any more. I really feel like I should have _something_ to defend myself with!

"Seems a shame to just leave it lyin' around," Bofur speaks somewhere to my right, and I turn just in time to watch several gold coins fall through his fingers. "Anyone could take it."

"Agreed," Gloin rumbled, looking over his shoulder. "Nori, get a shovel."

The star-haired dwarf did just that, returning to his companions a moment later to begin digging. I don't stay to want and instead I ventured forwards slightly, to where Thorin is examining a barrel of shiny, pointy objects that look of great interest.

I am cautious about standing too close to him. The time spent locating the troll hoard seems to have cooled him off a bit, but I'm not stupid enough to think he's forgotten about our little spat. His memory can't be that bad. Unfortunately.

"These swords were not made by any troll." Thorin mutters, taking one of the two he'd picked out of the barrel and passing it to Gandalf who has also wandered over, and ignoring me completely. The wizard took it in his hands and examined it carefully.

"Nor were they made by any smith among men," He says, blowing away the cobwebs that have gathered around it's handle. Ugh. Gandalf pulls the sword from it's sheath, revealing a ridiculously silvery blade. "These were forged in Gondolin, by the high elves of the first age."

Thorin looks like someone has handed him a dead baby.

I snort back a laugh at the look on his face, I don't need to give him any more reasons to hate me.

"You could not wish for a finer blade!" Gandalf rebukes him, and Thorin pauses in putting his sword back. Apparently he does listen to our resident wizard, when it suits him. Who knew?

"I'll have it, if you don't want it," I say cheerily when neither of them speak. "Bit big for me though."

Thorin grunts and once again does not acknowledge my comment, surprise, surprise. He does however pull the blade a few inches from it's casing to look at it, tilting it this way and that in the dim light of his torch. It know swords aren't supposed to be considered pretty, but this one is and despite sitting in a troll cave for god's know how long it's as reflective as a mirror - and probably quite sharp, though I'm not interested in testing that theory.

Gandalf nods to himself and rests his own sword against himself, turning away to explore the cave a little more. I suck my teeth, making that sound that annoys everyone and shove my hands into the pockets of my trousers, feeling like the third wheel on a date.

Thorin braces himself on the edge of the barrel and exhales loudly, as if my very presence causes him to have war flashbacks or something. Is that the sound of his teeth grinding I can hear?

"Do you think it wise to trust you with a sword?" Thorin questions after a moment when I don't move away. He slaps the elvish blade back into his scabbard and glances at me over his shoulder. I shrug.

"Do you think I'll survive without one?" I ask. He snorts, actually snorts, as if he doesn't think I'm going to survive at all, sword or no sword. This is potentially the first bit of humour I have seen on his face and I don't like that it's directed at me - He might be right, but he doesn't need to be so obvious about it. "Hey! I've already helped save your arse once already! Don't be such a prat."

Once again I curse my stupid mouth – we've literally just finished fighting and now I'm provoking him again! What is wrong with me?

"As you say." He mutters cooly. For a moment I think he's going to walk off and leave me standing there like the idiot I am, but to my surprise he doesn't. Instead he turns back to the barrel, seizing the swords one by one and checking them out. The third he pulls out is shorter than his own and the one he handed Gandalf, but is still longer than the short sword that will be gifted to Bilbo. He grunts, rests what I know to be Orcrist, against his leg and removes the sword part way from it's sheath.

The blade glimmers in the darkness, the same way the elvish swords did, which apparently satisfies the dwarf king because he shoves it into my arms.

"Awesome!" I say, grinning like an mug.

"Try not to hurt yourself with it." Thorin says cattily, striding off to where the other dwarfs are still burying their treasure.

"Your concern is touching," I say as I too turn back towards the others. "No really, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside!"

"Let's get out of this foul place," Thorin commands, no longer paying attention to me other than to give me a glare. That is an expression I will receive frequently over the coming months. "Come on, lets go, Bofur! Gloin! Nori!"

I head over to the entrance, following Thorin's steps until something flies towards at me, hitting me in the chest. I let out a gasp of panic till I realise it's just a few strips of jumbled leather which now lie tangled by my feet. I look up with a frown to see Dwalin smirking at me.

"What was that for?" I ask, stooping down to extract the straps from what looks like a human leg bone. Gross.

"It's a sword belt lass," He clarifies, though that smirk hasn't left his face. "For that little needle there. Unless you're intending to carry your blade all the way to Erebor?"

"Bitch I might be." I mutter to myself when I know the bald headed dwarf is out of earshot, untangling the belt as I follow him up and out of the cave. It's a strange looking contraption, this thing. It's made of dark leather, quite worn, but then again I don't know how old it is or who had it before me, so that's probably understandable. The thickest strap is the actual belt, but it has another small strip that I assume is meant to go round the leg? To secure the sword, maybe?

I have no idea what I'm doing.

"Lady Harker, hurry up," Thorin commands, watching my struggle. "And do try not to accidentally stab someone."

"I can guarantee it won't be an accident if you don't shut up!" I grumble quietly, once again not loud enough to for the comment to be heard by the intended dwarf, though it seems as if Bofur has heard me because he chuckles and makes his way over to me.

"Ya havin' trouble there lass?" He asks, grinning at me from under his floppy hat. I nod slightly, defeated.

"How the hell does this thing work?" I ask, thrusting the sword belt in his direction, feeling disgruntled by the entire situation. I should be able to work out a belt by myself. "What are all these bloody straps for?"

"Ah, well this one goes across ya shoulder, see?" He explains, pulling at the larger of the two straps which I had assumed was for the waist – being a _belt _and all! "An that one going round tha middle!"

"Oh," I mutter, frowning. Why can't things just be simple in my life? "Uh, thanks!"

"No problem my lady!" He says, tipping his hat and giving me a wink as he turns back to the others, leaving me to wrestle myself into the sword belt.

I strap the sword into it's place and shrug the large strap over my shoulder so it sits across my body – this particular style of belt was not made with a woman in mind, I decide – then buckle the smaller one around my waist.

Hmmm.

I grab the hilt which is sticking up over my left shoulder and draw it out experimentally. It's not awkward to pull out, though I'm dubious about getting it back in without stabbing myself in the shoulder a few times first.

The sword itself is a little shorter than my arm - the same shimmering metal as Thorin's own sword - with elvish swirls etched into the curving blade. Very fancy.

"Bam chicka wow wow!" I say to myself, smirking and swinging the sword (making sure there is no one in the immediate vicinity, obviously). It feels light in my hands, as if it's not made of metal but something much lighter, like polystyrene or feathers or something.

I can see Gandalf chatting to Bilbo who is holding a short sword in his hands and looking distinctly uncomfortable about it. I smirk and manage to slide my own sword back into it's sheath without too much trouble, then I make my way swiftly over to where Mal is waiting with Fili and Kili.

"Check me out Mal!" I say, booping him on the nose as I sling my rucksack and bedroll up onto my back. He barks, tail wagging madly.

Yeah, we're ready to wreck shit now!

"That's a very nice sword Uncle has given you." Fili observes as I turn to them, pulling the straps of my bag tight.

"A fine gift indeed." Kili agrees from beside his brother. I snort.

"Not so much a gift as something he pulled out of pile of troll crap," I say, scratching my cheek slightly. "But yeah, it's an awesome sword."

"A awesome sword?" Fili questions, his eyebrows pulling down into a frown. "Is that a type of blade from your homeland?"

"What – uh- no, no!" I say, laughing. I forget they don't know what I'm talking about half the time. Hey, maybe that's why I get ignored so much? Yeah, that must be it. "No, awesome means cool – oh you probably don't know what that means either."

"We are aware of the changes in temperature." Kili huffs, as if I've implied the two of them are stupid. I sigh and tap my chin, trying to think of a way to word it that they will understand.

"No, awesome is something that is really good, or awe inspiring like – oh, all the hero's from those stories Balin is always telling?" I am not very good at explaining. "They're awesome, because they do all these daring, crazy things."

"I see." Fili says, though I doubt he does.

"Uncle Thorin is awesome?" Kili suggests cautiously, as if he's not sure he is using the word in the right context. It's certainly not the word I would choose to describe his majesty!

I am saved from any more awkward explanations of my choice in vocabulary when the sound of branches snapping and birds flying makes Thorin shout out "Something's coming!" from my left, causing everyone else to look up.

"Stay together," Gandalf orders, striding forwards. "Hurry now, arm yourselves!"

Everyone bursts into action – though they're going to be sorely disappointed with what turns up! They are all racing around, brandishing weapons and pulling themselves into tight defensive groups of three's and fours.

Gloin grabs me by the arm and shoves me behind his considerable bulk, to protect me I assume. I would have complained but at that moment I stumbled over a root and fell backwards onto my butt. You know when I said dwarf me didn't fall over as much as human me? I think I spoke too soon.

Luckily no one really noticed because a hoard of rabbits burst from the undergrowth, towing a sled with a dishevelled looking man screaming "Thieves! Fire! Murder!" - you guessed it: Radagast! This was pretty effective in drawing all attention away from myself.

He looks around for a few moments, as if not quite sure what he's doing here, surrounded by pissed off looking dwarves with weapons pointed at various bits of his person. Then Gandalf steps in, evidentially taking a moment to recognise his friend under all the moss and bird poop. Ugh. Someone is in need of a good herbal essence-ing I think!

"Radagast! Radagast the brown!" Gandalf says, sheathing his fancy new elven sword and striding forwards a few paces to reach his hippy friend. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Is it just me or does Gandalf not seem too thrilled about this sudden appearance?

"I was looking for you, Gandalf! Something's wrong! Something's terribly wrong!" Radagast says dramatically, waving a gloved hand all over the place.

"Yes?" Gandalf says cautiously, as if he's not sure he wants to hear what is so terribly wrong.

"..." Radagast opens his mouth and frowns, snapping it shut a moment later. He opens it again, closes it and taps his chin. "Oh, just give me a minute! Um, oh, I had a thought, and now I've lost it! It was right there, on the tip of my tongue!"

He points to his mouth, then his bushy eyebrows draw down and he hmm's.

"Oh! It's not a thought at all!" He says, opening his mouth wide and uncurling his tongue. "It's a silly old..."

Gandalf – the brave man – pulls the bug off of Radagast's tongue and holds it out to him.

"Stick insect!" Radagast finishes with a smile once the insect is safely back in his hand.

"That was pretty gross." I say from my place on the ground, though I receive a few looks I am mostly ignored. Shocking! I'm not the only one who thinks this is weird, I'm sure, though I can see Kili and he doesn't look as disgusted as he probably should – saying that he's probably eaten bugs for a dare before or something. Ugh.

Gandalf steers his forest loving friend away for a private little chat about wizard things. Myself and the rest of the company are not invited, which is find by me, since I already know what they're talking about.

"What are you doing on the ground lass?" Balin asks as Gloin moves away slightly and reveals me perched, quite happily, on the root I had tripped over.

"Sitting, Balin." I reply with a smile. He doesn't need to know I hadn't intended to sit.

"The purpose of that sword I gave you is to fight with. You can not fight sitting down, Lady Harker." Thorin's gravelly voice grumps as he comes up beside his older advisor. I roll my eyes.

"Yes, very true! And I need to be careful because those bunnies look terribly ferocious, don't they?" I ask, glancing over to Radagast's sled to watch as one of the rabbits scratches it's ear with a large back foot. It snuffles at the air for a moment and I turn back to Thorin. "Let's hope they don't tickle you to death with those fluffy tails of theirs!"

Thorin makes a noise that is probably best described as a growl, and stalks away from me. Balin shakes his head, a ghost of a smile on his face as he holds a hand out to me. I blink at it for a moment before I realise he's offering to help me up, which is very gentlemanly of him.

Balin looks really old, doesn't he? I feel like he should be tottering around with a zimmer frame or walking stick, not fending off trolls on a quest to kill a dragon - but I'm still not used to this dwarf ageing system yet. I'm _surprised_ when he hauls me to my feet, but I know I shouldn't be – he's a strong old bastard!

"Thanks!" I say, brushing myself off. There are bits of forest all over me!

"Don't mention it lassie." He says, giving me a little bow before moving off to talk to one of the other members of the company. Mal joins me as I find a large log and put a booted foot onto it.

I re-tighten the straps on my boots, till I'm pretty sure no blood is getting to my feet, and make sure they aren't going to fall off. If I remember correctly I have a lot of running to do shortly – I don't like running at the best of times, I like it even less if I'm tripping over my own feet all the time. Man I really need to get myself a new pair of shoes, these ones are not made for more than a light wander – they're falling apart.

"Look at these Mal!" I grumble, tapping my boot. "Katie would go mental if she saw these! I only got them last year!"

Mal licks the side of my shoe, not fussed with my fashion problem in the least.

Happy that I will be able to at least run without falling down every other step, I make my way over to where Bilbo is standing just as a menacing howl cuts through the air. It would have been almost comical, the way all the dwarves heads popped up, like little meerkats – if it hadn't meant that Wargs were around.

"Was that a wolf?" Bilbo panics beside me. I shake my head slightly. "Are there- Are there wolves out there?"

"Wolves?" Bofur repeats, hefting his mattock in his hands. "No, that was not a wolf!"

I am already looking in the right direction, so I am the first to see the warg as it creeps down from the top of the incline. It's not a sight I will ever get used to, and I wish I could say it was something I wouldn't _need_ to get used to - but that would be a bare faced lie.

"Shit!" I shout, grabbing hold of Mal who has also seen the warg and has immediately decided he doesn't like it. Damn it he's almost wrenched my arm off trying to get to the bloody thing!

The warg leaps down with a snarl, landing on poor Dori as it does so. Mal launches himself forwards, out of my grip and sinks his teeth into the wargs side as Thorin brings his sword down on it's neck – effectively ruining it's day.

Behind Thorin another warg has appeared, attempting a sneak attack on the turned back of the would be king. Kili has an arrow knocked and is letting it fly as the warg throws itself forwards. The arrow embeds itself into the shoulder, taking the warg off course and allowing Dwalin to bring his war hammer down on it's skull with a sickening crack. The overgrown wolf-creature thuds to the ground, dark blood seeping into the earthy floor.

There is silence.

"Fuck me, they're huge!" I say, breaking it. And they are! Mal is standing beside the dead one looking happy with himself, with warg blood staining his fur like rust. The warg is at least a head taller and a foot wider than Mal, though not nearly as pretty!

"Warg scouts," Thorin grunts, ignoring me in favour of yanking his blood smeared sword from the first wards throat. He steps away from the body and looks round at the company, eyes dark. "Which means an orc pack is not far behind!"

"Orc pack!?" Bilbo repeats, looking (or hoping) as if he's not heard right.

"Who did you tell of your quest?" Gandalf questions, stepping forwards. "Beyond your kin?"

"No one." Thorin answers.

"Who did you tell?" Gandalf demands, his voice rising. Ooooh dear.

"No one, I swear!" Thorin says. I am inclined to believe him, he looks just as freaked out by this as everyone else. "What in Durin's name is going on?"

"You are being hunted." Gandalf says after a second, putting everyone's mind at ease.

"Well shit.." I mutter, grabbing Mal and pulling him away. I wonder if he can get ill from warg blood, surely it can't be good for him - and I'm pretty sure he's swallowed some! Not healthy.

"We have to get out of here!" Dwalin says, though I think by this point everyone else has the same idea. Cue Ori!

"We can't!" Ori says right on time, appearing on a ledge slightly above us with Bifur in tow. "We have no ponies, they've bolted."

Bilbo is one hundred percent done now, and turns away, probably with the intention of hiding somewhere and never _ever_ coming out. That's what I want to do anyway. I am however struck with an unexpected feeling of loss for Betty - I doubt I will ever find a pony as uncaring as her.

"I'll draw them off!" Radagast offers after a moment, but Gandalf turns to him with a frown.

"These are Gundabad wargs! They will outrun you!" The grey wizard says, shaking his head in exasperation, as if his colleague has just said something extremely foolish. Which he has! Who in their right mind volunteers to be warg bait?

"These are Rhosgobel rabbits," Radagast says slyly, smirking as Gandalf turns to face him again. "I'd like to see them try!"

"So what? These Rhosgobel rabbits are like duracell bunnies or something?" I question as Radagast strides purposefully to his wooden sled to get ready. Gandalf glances at me, then sighs.

"I do not know what an 'duracell bunny' is my dear lady," The wizard informs me, shaking his head slightly. "But they are very fast, fast enough to outpace a warg."

"We hope." I said cheerily, turning to watch Radagast. The brown wizard bids us a hasty farewell and was off, his fancy rabbits carrying him off at neck break speeds through the trees and out into the open. I blink after them, surprised despite myself.

Howling fills the air and I have just enough time to grab Malik's face – still sticky with warg blood, I might add- and order him to stay with me – to heel! Whether he understood I will never know, his only answer was trying to lick my face.

Gandalf leads us off, and we wait behind a conveniently large and well placed boulder as Radagast draws the orcs away, shouting and yelling much like he had on his arrival. The wargs and their riders give chase, speeding after the rabbit sled like their arses are on fire! Once our own wizard deemed it safe enough we set off with a rough "Come on!"

I ran full tilt after Gandalf, will Mal at my side. It should be mentioned that Mal looks like he's having a _great_ time – tail wagging, tongue hanging out of his mouth and running lazily while I pant and puff to keep up.

We come out from behind several clumps of rock, Thorin leading the way, only to find that Radagast has doubled back and is now in front of us with the entirety of the Orc pack a few steps behind.

"Stay together!" Gandalf says, I nod, even if he wasn't talking directly to me. I'm sticking with him whether he likes it or not!

"Move!" Thorin orders, turning us around and heading back.

Oh god I'm so unhealthy!

We sprint – dwarves are natural sprinters, didn't you know? – across the rocky plain, trying, and failing, to get away from the warg riders that somehow keep popping up in front of us. Damn it Radagast you had one job!

I almost slam into the back of Dwalin as he grinds to a stop. Shockingly the orcs are unknowingly blocking our path _again._

"Ori no!" I hear Thorin shout from up front. "Go back!"

I need to rest. Phew, I can't breathe!

"Come on, quick!" Gandalf chides, motioning us all on again. I give him the dirtiest look I can manage whilst panting before puffing after Dwalin.

I barely hear Thorin's question of "Where are you leading us?" over the sound of blood pumping in my ears and my own heavy breathing. Good question Gandalf! Thorin is going to be _so _pissed!

More running! Joy! We must have covered a mile already with all this doubling back and turning around. Man, I'm tired. I wonder briefly if the wargs will overlook me if I simply lie down and play dead - probably not.

I carry on as best I can, keeping Gandalf in view but running beside Dwalin – I think he'll save me if something happens – I hope.

The orcs round the rocks up ahead so we flatten ourselves against one of the larger boulders and hope it provides enough cover to hide us. I grab Mal again, crouching slightly and pulling him against myself so his butt doesn't stick out and give us all away.

"Alright boy," I whisper to him. More to comfort myself than him, since he's having a whale of a time! "We'll be safe soon."

But not too soon! Oh no! It wouldn't do to be out of danger so quickly, would it? Because of course there is a warg rider on _top_ of the rock we're hiding against. Obviously.

I don't look up, I keep my face stuffed against Malik's neck, holding him in place so he doesn't do anything stupid. I know that if I look up I will see Thorin motioning for Kili to use his bow against the warg – I know I will see Kili take a deep breath, fit his arrow and then jump out, firing said arrow into the chest of the warg.

There is a roar of pain, and another twang as Kili looses a second arrow into the rider. I do look up then, because Mal wants to join the party, and he hasn't been invited! He strains against my hold on him and it's all I can do to keep him in place - his size and strength more than I can contend with.

The warg and it's orc rider tumble gracelessly from the rocks, landing a few feet from where we are taking refuge – and it's not quiet about it. The warg is howling and the orc is spitting curses in whatever language these freaky little bastards speak. Whatever it is the orc is saying I think we can all safely assume it isn't something pleasant.

Dwalin and Bifur jump in and quickly finish off the two attackers, but not before they've alerted all of the other orcs to our presence.

"Any chance the rest of our pursuers were deaf?" I ask, standing from my crouch, fingers still wrapped around Mal's collar.

You guessed it, I'm ignored.

"Move!" Gandalf says, almost quietly at first but then he shouts: "Ruuuuun!"

We don't need telling twice!

We run. We run hard and we run fast – though we do not enjoy it! Well I certainly don't, I can't speak for the rest of the company.

"There they are!" Gloin says, a little unnecessarily as he spots warg riders closing in from the distance.

"This way!" Gandalf shouts. "Quickly!"

Despite our best efforts to outpace the orcs, we soon find ourselves surrounded on the plain, wargs popping up all over the place.

"There's more coming!" Kili informs us. Great!

"Kili!" Thorin shouts, turning in a circle to confirm that yes, we are indeed in the shit. "Shoot them!"

I have once again found myself near Bilbo – my kindred spirit in all things scary and dangerous. He is standing with his little sword clutched tight in both hands, I draw my own though I'm under no illusion that I have any idea how to use it.

"Mal!" I call to him. He is standing a few feet in front of me, tail up, hackles raised and ears pointed straight up. "Stay here, Stay!"

"We're surrounded!" Fili shouts. Oh I am getting sick of these dwarfs pointing out the obvious. Stay calm. Keep breathing.

"Where is Gandalf?" One of the dwarfs shout. I'm not sure who it was to be honest, I was too busy wetting myself.

"He's abandoned us!" Dwalin shouts back – I know his voice, the pessimistic bastard. Bilbo starts to back up, grabbing me by the elbow and tugging me along with him, I don't resist. We're both little, I'm sure we can find somewhere to hide!

"Malik, come here!" I snap as I move backward, he comes after a moment, very slowly.

"Hold your ground!" Thorin orders, pulling Orcrist from it's sheath where it catches the light of the sun. Perhaps he could dazzle the orcs to death – that sword is ridiculously shiny!

The orcs are closing in when Gandalf pops up from behind the rock, brandishing his staff, thank god! I knew he hadn't left, but he sure was taking his sweet time to save me!

"This way, you fools!" The wizard shouts, disappearing again, seemingly into the very earth itself – though we all know this isn't the case, don't we!

"Come on move!" Thorin yells, going an acrobatic little leap onto one of the rocks at the entrance of Gandalf's secret passage. "Quickly! All of you! Go, go, go!"

Bofur, then Bilbo disappear down the hole, and I am about to follow when I realise that Mal isn't with me any more, that little shit!

Balin, Gloin and Ori rush past me, and I step back, not wanting to block their path. Malik is few meters in front of Thorin, snarling and growling at the approaching wargs. What on earth does he think he's doing? I am vaguely aware of Thorin cutting down a warg to my right, as Bombur rolls himself down the slope to join the others.

"Malik I swear to god!" I shout. "Get back here now!"

He grunts and ignores me -just what I need- and instead moves forward as Thorin shouts a drawn out "KILLLLIII!" from my right. Mal bolts, heading full pelt towards the younger dwarf who is doing a two hundred meter sprint towards us with a full complement of warg riders on his tail and gaining.

I think I am shouting for Mal to come back, but I can't really remember - all I can recall is watching him running _towards_ the bad guys. Only then Malik does something I _really_ don't expect. He skids to a halt just before Kili passes him and turns again so that he is behind the dark haired dwarfling – then he pushes forwards, wedges his head between the dark haired dwarf's legs so that Kili is now sitting on Malik's shoulders and races back towards us like a bat out of hell!

What the actual fuck?

Mal is far quicker than Kili, even with the added weight of the dwarf on him and soon the two of them are sailing down through the gap in the rocks – almost braining Kili against the stone in the process – leaving Thorin and I standing with baffled expressions as the orcs close in. Luckily Thorin doesn't know that this is extremely weird behaviour for my pooch and is therefore less confused by his actions. The exiled king grabs my arm, swings me round and the two of us slide down against the cool stone.

I land in a jumbled and quite frankly awkward heap at the bottom, having not been expecting the trip in the first place and also trying not to stab someone with the sword I am still holding. Thorin just sort of gracefully skims down to the bottom and is on his feet a few seconds later. Bastard.

He does, however, grab me by my shoulder and hoist me to my feet, wary of my flailing sword. I am then shoved against the wall and pinned there with the back of his arm as his attention is drawn to the opening above us.

Horns blare somewhere on the plains, followed by the sounds of orcs and wargs dying, which I quite liked.

Thorin is annoyingly strong and I can't shove his arm off me until an orc body appears, tumbling into our hiding place and landing with a fleshy thud at the feet of the dwarfs. I use this moment to extract myself from between the rock and the grumpy king and stomp over to Mal who wags his tail like an idiot.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I ask him, receiving a head tilt from Mal and a few confused looks from the dwarfs. "What was the stunt you just pulled? You've never done anything like that before! You're not a bloody warg!"

"Elves." Thorin says with distaste behind me as he yanks an arrow from the orcs body, dropping it a moment later as if it burnt him. He and Gandalf share a not entirely friendly glance. I feel like he's overreacting slightly.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads!" Dwalin's voice echoes as he shouts, having the good sense to look for another way out. "Do we follow it or no?"

"Follow it, of course!" Bofur says, heading off after the tattooed dwarf. I huff and turn away from Mal, who does not seem bothered by his earlier actions nor my utter confusion at them.

"I think that would be wise." Gandalf murmurs as the rest of the dwarfs file out and only Bilbo and I remain. The hobbit and I share a look.

"I'm not entirely sure our ending up here was a coincidence." I say offhandedly as we join the end of the exiting company, I trail after the halfling, Mal and Gandalf following behind.

"Whatever do you mean?" Gandalf questions from behind me, I glance over my shoulder to see him smile slightly, eyes twinkling.

"Oh nothing," I shrug. "It's certainly lucky those elves showed up when they did though."

"It certainly is," Gandalf agrees. "I'm sure you've heard plenty about elves from our companions?"

"Oh yeah, Thorin's favourite topic of conversation," I snort, making sure he isn't nearby. "He practically has an aneurysm every time they're mentioned."

"An.. aneurysm?" Gandalf questions, pronouncing the strange word awkwardly.

"Oh. Shit," I grumble to myself, more explaining. This one is way above my pay grade. "It's this blood thing that – actually never mind, the point is it's bad, like.. a heart attack!"

"A heart attack?" Gandalf repeats, still confused. Why do I keep doing this to myself?

"Maybe you don't call them that here," I shrug, scratching my temple. "Cardiac arrest? D'ya know what, forget I said anything!"

"I will try," Gandalf says with a chuckle, though when I glance back he is looking at me strangely. He smiles. "Well I suggest you make your own opinion of elves in any case, and perhaps take the dwarves feelings towards them with a pinch of salt."

"Pfft, a little more than a pinch," I grin. "Besides, I'm quite looking forward to it. That is where we're going, right? To see the elves?"

Gandalf does not either confirm nor deny this, just hmm's at me. Doesn't matter, he can evade my questions till the cows come home - we all know where I'm headed.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," I say, turning sideways to fit through a tighter gap – how on earth did Bombur get through here?- My backpack scrapes against the rocks but I'm through a second later. "Do you think they'll let me have a bath?"

"My dear I think they will insist on it."

* * *

**Annnd there you go! Next chapter: ELVES! Once again hope you all like it and please review/follow/favourite as you see fit!**


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